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EN1SON & COMPANY, Publishers, 154 W. Randolph St., Chicago 



T *?D 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 






i 




d 



AN OLD FASHIONED 
MOTHER 

A DRAMATIC PARABLE 

OF A MOTHER'S LOVE 

In Three Acts 

BY 

WALTER BEN HARE 

AUTHOR OF 

"Aaron Boggs, Freshman" "Abbu San of Old Japan," "And Home 
Came Ted" "A Bird in the Hand" "Civil Service" "A College 
Town," "A Country Boy Scout," "Deacon Dubbs," "The 
Fascinators," "Kicked Out of College" "Laughing 
Water" "Macbeth a la Mode," "Mrs. Tubbs of 
Shantytown," "Parlor Matches," "A Poor Mar- 
ried Man" "Rose o' My Heart" "A Rustic 
Romeo," "Savageland," "Sewing for 
the Heathen," "A Southern Cin- 
derella"^ and "The White 
Christmas and Other 
Merry Christmas 
Plays." 




CHICAGO 
S. DENISON & COMPANY 
Publishers 
"73 



"7 

OF 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

P535I5 
> ft 575©7 

TO THE MEMORY 
MY MOTHER 
MARION BENJAMIN HARE 



NOTICE 

Production of this play is free 
to amateurs, but the sole profes- 
sional rights are reserved by the 
author, who may be addressed in 
care of the Publishers. Moving: 
picture rights reserved. 




COPYRIGHT, 1917 

BY 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY 

©CI.D 48229 

NOV -21917 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

As originally produced at South Street Christian Church, Spring- 
field, Mo., October 26, 1917. 

Deborah Underhtll A Mother in Israel 

Miss Gladys London. 

Widder Bill Pindle Leader of the Choir 

Miss Amelia Ruxton. 
5 Miss Lowizy Loviny Custard. .Plain Sewing and Gossip 
Miss Eunice Du Vall. 

*» Isabel Simpscott The Village Belle 

Miss Myrtle Chalmers. 

^ Gloriana Perkins . . ., As Good as Gold 

Miss Martha Moore. 

Sukey Pindle The Widder' s Mite 

Miss Anna Law. 

John Underhill The Prodigal Son 

Mr. Ralph Harrison. 

Charley Underhill The Elder Brother 

Mr. John Bennett. 

Brother Jonah Quackenbush A Whited Sepulchre 

Mr. Vance Criss. 

Jeremiah Gosling, "J erry " A Merry Heart 

Mr. Walter Ben Hare. 

Enoch Rone An Outcast and a Wanderer 

Mr. Wilbur J. Hiatt. 

Quintus Todd The County Sheriff 

Mr. Roy Williams. 

The. Village Choir: 

Time — Twenty Years Ago. • 

Place — The Village of Canton, in Northern New: York. 

Time of Playing — Two Hours and Fifteen Minutes. 
3 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 



SYNOPSIS. 

Act I. Settin' Room at the Underhill Farmhouse. An 
afternoon in late March. The Good Samaritan. 

Act II. Same scene, three years later. A winter after- 
noon. A Mother's Love. 

Act III. Same scene, two years later. A morning in 
autumn. The Prodigal Son. 



THE STORY OF THE PLAY. 

The play is a parable of a mother's love triumphant over 
the ingratitude and neglect of her children, and is arranged 
as a drama in three acts. 

The action of the play take's place in the tiny village of 
Canton, in northern New York, the scene of the entire 
action being laid in the front "settin' room" of Aunt Debo- 
rah Underbill's farmhouse. Aunt Deborah is a blessed old 
Saint in Israel, nearly seventy years old, the widow of a 
Deacon and the mother of four boys and two girls. All 
of the children, however, have married and moved away 
from the old home with the exception of John and Charley. 
John is the youngest and the idol of his mother's heart. 
He is led astray by evil companions and they find in him 
a weak and subservient tool for their misdeeds. 

The play opens with a rehearsal of the village choir with 
numerous interruptions from Jeremiah Gosling, a comical 
country boy always trying to swop something, and from 
Miss Lowizy Loviny Custard, the romantic old maid who 
is anxious to recite her original poetry. John breaks up 
the meeting by bringing home a poor exhausted tramp whom 
he had found sick and starving by the wayside. Aunt 
Deb cites the parable of the Good Samaritan and gives aid 
to the wanderer. The tramp tells the story of his life 
ruined by drink and Aunt Deb gives him money to return 
to his home in Buffalo. 

John is much impressed by the tramp's story and takes 
a vow never to drink another drop of liquor while he lives. 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 5 

Charley, the elder brother, brings his fiancee in for tea 
and the happy family is just about to begin the evening 
meal when an ominous knock is heard at -the door. Glo- 
riana, the faithful hired help, opens the door and admits 
the Sheriff. JoTm is arrested and despite his protestations 
of innocence, dragged away to jail. 

Three years pass and no word has been heard from John, 
although his innocence has been proved and he has been 
released from jail. Charley persuades his mother (Aunt 
Deb) to put a mortgage on the old home in order to give 
him a start in the city. She does so against the advice 
of the faithful Gloriana. It is a snowy winter's night and 
as Aunt Deb sits at the old melodeon singing "Where Is 
My Wandering Boy Tonight," John appears in the door- 
way but does not allow his mother to see him. A merry 
sleighing party arrives bound for the singing school and 
the household join the party. John totters in, a starving 
homeless tramp. He is about to steal his mother's savings 
when Enoch Rone, the tramp of Act I, but now a pros- 
perous merchant, intercepts him and in a dramatic scene 
between the two men starts John for Oklahoma and a new 
life. 

In the third act Aunt Deb is bound for the poor-house 
but is saved from the disgrace by the arrival of John, a 
prosperous and respected zinc miner in Oklahoma. The 
villagers drop in for a surprise party and all sing the 
Doxology. 

Miss Custard, the old maid who recites, and Jerry Gos- 
ling, the funny country boy, are great comedy parts and 
keep the audience in roars of laughter all the time they are 
on the stage, while Aunt Deb, John and Enoch Rone are 
three dramatic parts that .offer great opportunity for ambi- 
tious amateurs to make a "hit" with their audiences. 



SYNOPSIS FOR PROGRAM. 

Act I. The Good Samaritan. Aunt Debby's farmhouse 
in late March. The Widder rehearses the village choir. 
Sukey in trouble with the old gray tabby cat. "She 



6 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

scratched me. I was puttin' flour on her face for powder, 
jest like you do !" Lowizy Custard reads her original poetry 
and Jerry Gosling drops in to see if there are to.be any 
refreshments. "That's jest what maw says !" Lowizy and 
Jonah pass the fainting tramp by the wayside and Deborah 
rebukes them with the parable of the Good Samaritan. 
The tramp's story of downfall due to drink. "A poor piece 
of driftwood blown hither and thither by the rough winds 
of adversity." John, Deborah's youngest son, profits by 
the tramp's experience. "From this moment no drop of 
liquor shall ever pass my lips." John arrested. "I am inno- 
cent, and when a man can face his God, he needn't be afraid 
to face the law!" 

Act II. A Mother's Love. Same scene but three years 
later, a winter afternoon. "Colder'n blue and purple blazes 
and snowin' like sixty." Jerry's engagement ring. "Is it 
a di'mond? Ef it ain't I'm skun out of two shillin'." "I 
been sparkin' her fer nigh onto four years, Huldy Sour- 
apple, big fat gal, lives over at Hookworm Crick." Deb- 
orah longs for news from John, the boy who was taken 
away. The Widder gossips. "I never seen sich a womern !" 
"You'd think she was a queen livin' in New York at the 
Walled-ofI Castoria." Lowizy is disappointed in Brother 
Guggs and decides to set her cap for Jonah. Deborah 
mortgages the old home for Charley and Isabel. The 
sleighing party. "Where is my wandering boy tonight?" 
The face at the window. Enoch and John. "I've been 
weak and foolish, a thing of scorn, laughed at, mocked at, 
an ex-convict with the shadow of the prison ever before 
me, but all that is passed. From now on, with the help 
of God, I am going to be a man !" 

Act III. The Prodigal Son. - Two years later. Debo- 
rah bids farewell to the old home before she goes over the 
hills to the poorhouse. "The little home where I've lived 
since John brought me home as a bride." The bitterest 
cup — a pauper. "It ain't right, it ain't fair." Gloriana and 
the baby. "There ain't nothin' left fer me, nothin' but the 
poorhouse." Jerry's presents. "You was allers good to 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 7 

me, Aunt Deb." The generosity of Jerry, whose heart of 
gold beats beneath a homespun shirt. The Sheriff comes to 
take Aunt Deb over the hills. "Your boy ain't dead. He's 
come back to you, rich and respected. He's here !" The 
return of the prodigal son. Jerry gets excited and yells, 
"Glory Hallelujah !" The joy and happiness of Deborah. 
"Honor thy father and thy mother that thy days may be 
long in the land." 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STAGING THE PLAY IN A 
CHURCH OR HALL. 

The play may easily be presented in a church or hall 
without painted scenery and is almost as effective as if 
given in a theater. One simple interior set is all that is re- 
quired. This is easily arranged with three large dark-col- 
ored curtains, one at. the rear and .the other two at either 
side. An opening may be left on either side for the en- 
trances and a window simulated at the rear by making a 
wooden frame of scantling, putting dark blue paper behind 
it, hanging it in proper place and draping white ruffled 
curtains in front of it. 

The fireplace offers no difficulty whatever. The mantel 
is made of three boards painted black. Two of the boards 
stand upright, with the narrowest edge toward the audience, 
and the third is simply laid across them. Take some dark 
brown or brick-colored muslin, the rough side facing front, 
and trace brick-work on it with white chalk. This covers 
the space enclosed by the mantel. Leave a hole in center 
about two and a half feet square for the fire. Put black 
paper back of this and a few logs. For the fire in Act II 
use a red electric light (concealed), several logs and a con- 
cealed pot of burning punk for smoke. Old-fashioned and- 
irons, shovel, wood-box, etc., add to the effect. 

If the window is made as suggested above, John may 
stand in the door while Deborah sings "Where Is My Wan- 
dering Boy Tonight?" 

In Act II coarse salt and bits of cotton are on the collars 



8 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

and caps of the characters, representing- snow. When they 
enter they shake it off in the wood-box. 

Footlights and sidelights should be wired in by an elec- 
trician, if possible. A row of small lamps, or even candles, 
for footlights is better than nothing. 



PROPERTIES. 
Fireplace. 
Mantel-. 
Old clock. 

Two brass candlesticks on mantel. 
' Candlestick on melodeon. 
Melodeon or small organ. 
Rag carpet. 

Old-fashioned splint bottom chairs. 
Spinning wheel. 

Glass lamp, sofa, tidies, pictures. 
Home-made wooden hitching post for Jerry. 
Soiled, old red bandana handkerchiefs for Jerry, Enoch 

and John. 
Little blue vase on mantel, containing bills. 
White table cloth, china dishes, cutlery. 
Gun for Quintus. 
Ironing table, iron, clothes, basket. 
Wood for Jerry. 

Large silver watch and steel chain for Jerry. 
Cheap ring in box for Jerry. 
Sleigh bells outside, two kinds, large and small. 
The mortgage. Pen, ink. 
Wallet with bill therein for Jonah. 
Matches for Enoch. 
Large piece of pie for Jerry. 
Lantern for Enoch. 
Wallet for Enoch. 
Pail, scrub brush, soap for Deborah: 
The baby (large doll or the real article). 
Apple for Jerry. Also two parcels for Jerry. 
Whip for Quintus. 






AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 



THE MUSIC. 

"Where Is My Wandering Boy Tonight" may be found 
in most collections of Revival Songs. The other songs sug- 
gested in the text may be found in The Golden Book of 
Favorite Songs, for sale by T. S. Denison & Company, 
Chicago, 111., price 15 cents. 



COSTUMES. 

Deborah — Aged 70. -White hair, face wrinkled with 
gray grease paint. Use no red color on face. Act I : Cal- 
ico dress, white apron. Act II : Old-fashioned cloth dress, 
white apron. Bonnet and shawl. Act III : Ragged old 
dark colored dress, old shoes. Neat black shawl and neat 
bonnet to be brought in by Jerry. 

Widder — Aged 40. Must be a good singer. Act I : Old- 
fashioned summer dress. Act II : Old-fashioned winter 
dress, hood, shawl, etc. Act III : Similar to Act II. 

Lowizy — Aged 40 or thereabouts. Red wig with cork- 
screw curls. Gaudy, old-fashioned costumes suitable for 
the seasons depicted. Reticule, black lace mitts, tiny para- 
sol, hat like a flower garden, are good suggestions. 

Isabel — Handsome brunette of 19. Summer costume 
with hat and parasol in Act I. Winter costume with hat 
and furs in Act II. She does not appear in Act III. 

Gloriana — Blonde of about 18. Simple old-fashioned 
dresses suitable to her station as hired help and to the sea- 
son depicted. 

Sukey — A child of 8 or 9. Red and white striped stock- 
ings, gingham all-over slip, hat with rubber under chin. 

John — A boy of 19 in Act I. Handsome and careless. 
Dark shirt, ordinary clothes. In Act II, a tramp of 22, 
unshaven and ragged. In Act III, a business man in travel- 
ing suit, aged 24. Small mustache in Act III. Broad brim 
western Stetson hat. 

Charley — Aged 23 in Act I. Neat summer suit, straw 



10 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

hat. In Act II, winter suit, overcoat and hat. Does not 
appear in Act III. 

Jonah — Aged 50. Mournful voice. Long dark coat and 
top hat. Cane. 

Jerry — Aged 18 in Act I. Rough shoes, red socks, old 
gray or tan suit much too small for him, red tie, old felt 
hat. Freckle the face and use white grease paint around 
eyes. Act II : Comical winter work suit, to be changed 
for a dress-up suit much too large or too small, large purple 
tie, small derby hat. Act III : Neater suit and hat, as he is ! 
now well to do. 

Enoch — Act I : An unshaven tramp, face heavily lined 
and tanned. Do not make up as a comical tramp, but as 
a man of misfortune. Act II : Neat winter suit and over- 
coat, neat make-up — an entire ■ change from Act I, almost 
impossible to recognize him as the same man. Act III : 
Similar to Act II. 

Quintus — Middle-aged. Neat dark suit. Stetson hat. 
Sheriff's badge. Must be a mature looking man, virile and 
dignified. 



SCENE PLOT. 



r~o i i wi^ st °°' v^ 

± Spinning D F.replace n Melodeo n \)\ 

Wheel r u = , M Chair -*- 



Chair 



Table Q 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

R. means right of stage; C, center; R. C, right center; 
L., left ; / E., first entrance ; U. E., upper entrance ; R. j E., 
right entrance, up stage, etc. ; up stage, away from foot- 
lights ; down stage, near footlights. The actor is supposed 
to be facing the audience. 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 



Act I. 



THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 

Scene: Living room in Deborah Underbill's house. 
A zuide brick fireplace at center back. Plain black old- 
fashioned mantel above it. Old clock and two brass can- 
dlesticks on mantel. Door R. and window L. of fire- 
place. Green paper shade and white ruffled curtains at 
window. Door L. 2 E., to kitchen. Old-fashioned arm- 
chairs each side of the fireplace. Melodeon up L. Spin- 
ning wheel up R. Rag carpet on the floor. Table at L. C. 
with red cloth. Several chairs, splint bottom,, around the 
room. Old-fashioned glass lamp on table. Old-fashioned 
sofa down R. "Tidies" on chairs and sofa. Old-fashioned 
pictures on wall. An afternoon in late March. . Widder 
Bill Pindle stands near the melodeon, facing the audience 
and beating time to the music. The Choir stand at rear, 
half facing audience and half facing the Widder. One of 
the girls plays the melodeon. Deborah Underhill and 
Gloriana Perkins seated on sofa down R. 

Before the curtain rises the Choir sings: 

The Quilting Party. 

In the sky the bright stars glittered, 
On the bank the pale moon shone ; 

And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party, 
I was seeing Nellie home. 

I was seeing Nellie home, 
I was seeing Nellie home, 
And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party, 
I was seeing Nellie home. 

{Curtain rises.) 

11 



12 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

On my arm a soft hand rested, 

Rested light as ocean foam, 
And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party, 
I was seeing Nellie home. 
. _ {Chorus as before.) \ 

On my lips a whisper trembled, 

Trembled till it dared to come, 
And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party, 

I was seeing Nellie home. 

{Chorus as before.) 

{At the conclusion of the song someone in the choir 
giggles.) 

Widder Bill Pindle. Let's not have no levity durin' 
the singin'. Of course we hain't in church, as it were, but 
we're preparin' fer a church festival and levity and gigglin* 
are decidedly outer place, as it were. I think you'd orter 
try that "Seem' Nellie Home" chorus agin. It seemed to 
me that somebody flatted on the high notes. 

Deborah Underhill. I thought it was lovely, the high 
notes and all. Now, Widder, if you ain't no objections, I'd 
like to have s em sing my favorite song, "Sweet and Low." 
To my mind there ain't no: song ever been written that 
expresses a mother's love like that one. It's been my favor- 
ite fer over forty years, ever since Thomas was born. And 
my John {wipes her eyes) — it was always his favorite, too. 
"Sweet and Low!" 

Widder. We'll sing it fer you, Aunt Deb, as a kind of 
a quartet. {Song, unaccompanied, by quartet, Widder 
beating time and giving the pitch.) 

Sweet and Low. 

Sweet and low, sweet and low, 

Wind of the western sea ; 
Low, low, breathe and blow, 

Wind of the western sea ; 
Over the rolling waters go, 
Come from the dying moon and blow, 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 13 

Blow him again to me, 
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. 

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, 

Father will come to thee soon ; 
Rest, rest, on mother's breast, 

Father will come to thee soon ; 
Father will come to his babe in the nest, 
Silver sails all out of the west, 

Under the silver moon. 
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. 

Deborah. That's .lovely. (Hums.) "Sleep, my little 
one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep !" I sang that to all of 'em. 
Thomas and Charley, Susan and Isaac and Rebecca, and 
John, my baby. That was the cradle song they loved best 
of all. 

Widder. Now let's try Lilly Dale, on page 36. 

Sukey Pindle (whining and crying outside L. 2 E.). 
Oh! Oooh! Maw! 

Widder. It's Sukey. (Goes to door L.) What's the 
matter, Sukey? What mischief you been into now? 

Enter Sukey from L., crying. 

Sukey. Oh, maw, the old gray- tabby cat scratched me, 
so she did. She hurt me awful. Oooh! 

Widder. What was you doin' to her, young lady? 

Sukey. I had her all dressed up in a apern an' sun- 
bonnet and I was puttin' flour on her face fer powder jest 
like you do, and she scratched me. (All laugh.) 

Widder. Sukey Araminty Pindle, how dasst you tell 
sech fibs? Now, you jest go over there in the corner and 
hush up while we finish our practice. Puttin' flour on the 
cat's face fer powder ! I got a good mind to turn you over 
my knee, young lady! (Takes her to rear L.) 
(Knock on door at R.) 

Gloriana Perkins. You sit still, Auntie Deb. Til see 
who it is. (Rises.) 

Enter Lowizy Loviny Custard from R. 



14 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Lowizy Loviny Custard. Don't bother to wait on me. 
I'll jest walk right in like I was to hum. I'd a been here 
earlier only I see a horrible tramp down the lane, and I'm 
mortal skeerd of tramps. I waited by the cross-roads till 
he laid down and went, to sleep. G' doo, Aunt Debby! 
{Shakes hands with her.) You look kinder peeked and 
pindly, hope y' haint comin' down with th' azmy. G' doo, 
Gloriana Perkins ! G' doo, Widder Bill Pindle, I surmised 
you'd be here. G' doo, Sally Larkins (to organist) and 
Samanthy Pettifer (to one of the choir). How be ye? 
G' doo, Elhathan Higgs. (She greets all of the choir, usin 
such names as Adam Beanbiler, Lily Bud Bawkins, Dorcas 
Milligan, Ebenezer Sour apple, etc.) Where'll I lay off my 
things ? 

. Deborah. Come into the bedroom, Lowizy. (Exit L. 
followed by Lowizy.) 

Sukey (comes to front and imitates Lowizy). G' doo, 
Aunt Debby! G' doo, Samanthy Pettifer! G' doo, Elnathan 
Higgs ! G' doo, Sallie Larkins ! G' doo, g' doo, g' doo ! 
(All laugh.) 

Widder. If you ain't the beatinest child I ever see ! 
(Takes her to rear L.) 
Enter Lowizy from L. She comes down C. with Widder. 

Lowizy. That tramp like to skeerd me into high-ster- ' 
icks. I ain't been right chirky fer the past two weeks. 

Widder. What's been ailin' y', Lowizy? 

Lowizy (speaks rapidly). Well, I've been troubled with 
the plumbago and I jes' got over the erysipelas. I had it 
orful bad. Couldn't hardly hear out o' either ear, and 
when I left home this afternoon I 'lowed I hed a slight tech 
of ep-epa— epaleptic dispen-sia. 

Widder. What on airth is that? 

Lowizy'. I mean the locomotive consumption. And then 
my nerves is jes' dreadful. That tramp like to skeerd me 
inter conniptions. He turned right down Aunt Debby's 
lane, and kinder staggered. I thought at first it was her 
John. You've heerd about him, ain't you? 

Widder. What's he been up to now? 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER IS 

Lowizy. Oh, carryin' on jest awful with that wild bunch 
o' rowdies from Hookworm Crick. Folks say he ain't 
drawed a sober breath fer weeks. 

Gloriana (down L.). Then folks say what ain't the 
truth. John is wild and does drink some and run around 
with bad boys, but please don't say anything about it in 
front of Aunt Debby. It 'ud break her heart. He's her 
youngest, y' know. 

Widder (down R.). Yes, and that's jest the reason he's 
been spiled the way he has. He alius was the worst of 
the deacon's six, the black sheep of the fambly, as it were. 

Lowizy (down C). Ain't it sad? And Charley and 
Thomas is sech nice boys, too. 

Gloriana. Humph ! John Underhill is jest as good as 
gold, but he's too easily led into bad ways by evil com- 
panions. Charley and Thomas and Isaac are good enough 
in their way, and so is Susan and Rebecca, but there ain't 
none of them loves and cherishes their mother like John, 
even if he is the worst of the deacon's six. 

Lowizy. I heerd you a singin' as I came up the lane. 
It sounded to me as ef ye didn't chord right good. 

Widder. Maybe yer hearin' ain't good, Lowizy. 

Lowizy. Yes, 'tis, too. Sence I got over the erysipelas 
I kin hear as good as enyone. And you know the choir 
don't alius chord. 

Widder. Maybe they don't, but they chord some. 

Lowizy. I've writ some poetry fer the festival. It's a 
song in honor of Brother Guggs. He's been our pastor jest 
a year now and I thort it 'ud be becomin' to sing my poetry 
at the festival. Here's how it goes. (Recites with dramatic 

To Brother Guggs. 
Oh, Brother Guggs, dear Brother Guggs, 

You've been here just a year, 
And if you should go away from us. 

You'd leave behind a tear. 

Your heart is good, your voice is kind, 
Your eyes are both true blue, 






16 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Oh, Brother Guggs, dear Brother Guggs, 
We think a heap of you. 

Your children, too, all seven of them, 

Is each a little dear, 
But you had orter take a wife 

Your lonesome heart to cheer. 

A year ago you come to us, 

To keep our hearts from woe, 
Oh, Brother Guggs, dear Brother Guggs, 

We don't want you to go. 

I want you to sing it to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne," 
page 57. 

{They sing the first stanza, ending with a discord.) 

Enter Jerry Gosling from R., carrying a zvooden hitch- 
ing-post. He stands by door R. and howls like a dog. 

Widder (up L.). Jerry Gosling, you hesh that noise. 
Air you a dog or air you a huming being? 

Jerry Gosling (gives a funny laugh, ascending the 
scale). Guess I'm a huming being, Widder Bill Pindle, at 
least that's what maw says. I heard the choir was singin' 
here today and thort I'd drop in an' see if you was goin' 
to hev refreshments. 

Widder. Land sakes, don't you ever think of nothin' 
'cept somethin' to eat? 

Jerry. That's jest what maw says. Afternoon, Miss 
Custard. 

Lowizy (at C). G' doo, Jerry Gosling. Yer still got 
that tizic in yer chest? 

Jerry. Yes'm, I calc'late I have. 

Lowizy. How is it? 

Jerry. 'Tain't much better and 'tain't much worser. 
Been tryin' that hoss liniment you give me. Best rubbin* 
medicine ever hed in th' house. Guess I'll stop over to 
your house and borry a leetle more, ef y' kin spare it. 

Lowizy. You ain't used up all I give y' in the jug, hev 
you? 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 17 

Jerry (funny laugh as before). Guess I hev. There 
ain't no end to the liniment yer pores'll soak up when you 
got the tizic. 

Widder. Take your place in the choir, Jerry Gosling", 
And remember, this ain't no^ place fer giggling. You're 
wusser'n a gal. 

Jerry (with funny laugh). That's jest what maw says. 

Widder. Now we'll sing Lowizy's song. Page 57. Low- 
izy, line out the second verse. 

Lowizy (recites dramatically, zvith gestures). Your 
heart is good, your voice is kind, your eyes, are both true 
blue; Oh, Brother Guggs, dear Brother Guggs, we think 
a heap of you. (Choir sings it to "Auld Lang Syne") 

Jerry (after song). I ain't goin' to sing to no sech fool- 
ishness. Brother Guggs'll think we're all in love with him, 
singin' a song like that. I'd ruther sing (sings) "Oh, 
Brother Guggs, oh, Brother Guggs, I'd like to black your 
eyes, if you'd sit down upon a tack, I'll bet a cent you'd 
rise !" 

Lowizy. Jerry Gosling, you ain't got a mite of sense. 

Jerry. That's just what maw says. (Funny laugh.) 

Widder. Let's not have no remarks now but git ready 
and tackle the third verse. (Choir sings third stanza.) 

Enter Brother Jonah Quackenbush from R. His en- 
trance creates a sensation; all stand perfectly still looking 
at him. 

Jonah Quackenbush {at R.). My friends, peace be 
on this house ! On the young master thereof, on the aged 
mistress thereof, on the young maidens and on the young 
men. 

All. Good evening, Brother Quackenbush. 

Jonah. Peace to all. My friends, why do I wish for 
peace? 

Jerry (up L.). Give it up, brother. 

Jonah. What is peace? Is it war? No! (Deep voice.) 
No! (High voice.). It is not war. 

Jerry (imitates him) . No, it is not war. (Funny laugh.) 

Jonah. Jerry Gosling, I'm astonished at you. 



18 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Jerry. That's jest what maw says. (Laughs.) 

Jonah. I am speaking of peace. Is it strife? No! 
(High -voice.) It is not strife. Is it lovely and gentle and 
beautiful and pleasant and serene and joyful? (Low voice.) 
Oh, (high voice), yes! 

Jerry (imitates). Oh, yes! 

Widder. You, Jerry Gosling, I'm ashamed of ye. (Pulls 
him to rear.) 

Jonah. Therefore, my friends, I wish for peace on you 
and yours. 

Gloriana. Come right in, Brother Quackenbush. I'll 
take your hat. 

Lowizy (languishingly) . Oh, Brother Quackenbush, you 
talk just like a book of poetry. . Set down. The choir 
was jest singin' one of my own compositions writ and dedi- 
cated to the pastor. 

Jonah (down R. C). Ah, to Brother Guggs. A worthy 
subject and a worthy poem. Miss Lowizy Loviny Custard, 
you are a gifted maiden, a maiden of which the village is 
proud. You shine as a bright star in the firmament of 
Canton, N. Y., Miss Lowizy Loviny Custard. And why 
do you shine? 

Lowizy (giggles). I dunno, I'm sure. 

Jerry. 'Cause she's got red hair. That's what does the 
shinin'. 

Jonah. You shine because (hesitates) because — 

All. Yes, because? 

Jonah. Because you shine. I heard your choir singing 
as I approached the door, but I could not discern the words. 

Lowizy. Oh, that's too bad. I pride myself on them 
words. Jerry, sing the last part for him. How did 
it go? 

Jerry (at L., sings a little off key). Dee dum de dum dum, 
duni dum dum ! De diddle de dum de dee ! . Dee dum de 
dum de dum dum dum, de dum de diddle de dee! 

Jonah. It's a lofty poem, Sister Custard. The words 
just fit the occasion. 

Widder. We've just got one more song to practice, 






AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 19 

Brother Quackenbush, and then we're going hum. Turn 
to "Lilly Dale," on page 36. (All sing.) 

Lilly Dale. 

Twas a calm still night and the moon's pale light 

Shone soft o'er hill and vale, 
When friends, mute with grief, stood around the death bed 

Of my poor lost Lilly Dale. 

Chorus. 

O Lilly, sweet Lilly, dear Lilly Dale, 

Now the wildrose blossoms o'er her little green grave 

'Neath the trees in the flowery vale. 

I go, she said, to the land of rest, 

And ere my strength shall fail, 
I must tell you where, near my own loved home, 

You must lay poor Lilly Dale. (Chorus as before.) 

'Neath the chestnut tree where the wild flowers grow, 
An the stream ripples forth through the vale, 

Where the birds shall warble their songs in spring, 
There lay poor Lilly Dale. (Chorus as before.) 

Jonah (wiping his eyes) . Ah, sad, sad, sad ! Poor Lilly 
Dale. Here today and gone tomorrow. That song teaches 
us the beauty of resignation. Oh, yes, the beauty of resig- 
nation. 

Jerry (comes to R. C). Say, Brother Quackenbush, 
that's a right smart hat you had on today. Where'd y' git it ? 

Jonah. Run away, little boy, run away. You annoy me. 

Jerry (with funny laugh). That's jest what maw says. 
But, honest Injun, I'm stuck on that hat of your'n. (Pulls 
his old tattered felt hat from waist, puts it on hand, brushes 
it off, shows it to Jonah.) How'll yer swop? 

Jonah. I don't care to swop, Jeremiah. 

Jerry. I'll gin y' this yere doo-daddle ter boot. (Pro- 
duces hitching -post.) 

Jonah. What is it? 



20 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Jerry. Hitchin'-post. (Pause). Et's been a right smart 
hitchin'-post in its day. 

Jonah. Can't swop you, Jeremiah. 

Jerry. This ain't no ordinary doo-daddle hitchin'-post, 
this hain't. I got it from the county fair grounds. Lots of 
blue blooded hosses been hitched to this doo-daddle. 

Jonah. What use would I have for a hitching-post ? 
Could I hitch my horse to it? Or my mule? Or my team? 
Oh, no! For I have no horse nor mule nor team. 

Jerry. Might hitch a cow to it. I'm kinder hankerm' 
to swop. Tell y' what I'll do. (Takes old soiled red ban- 
dana handkerchief from pocket.) I'll throw in this hand- 
kerchief. 

Lowizy. Jerry Gosling, ain't you ashamed? It's sinful 
to swop, and Brother Quackenbush don't want to anyhow. 

Jerry. Tell you what I'll do, Miss Custard. I'll swap y' 
this here doo-daddle fer a hull apple pie next time y' bake. 
Good hitchin'-post, too. 

Lowizy. No, thank you. 

Widder (shakes Sukey, who has fallen asleep). Come, 
Sukey, wake up. It's time to go hum. 

Sukey. Ain't we goin' to have no refreshments afore 
we go, maw? 

AVidder. Why, Sukey, where's yer manners? I'm sur- 
prised at y' ! This ain't a party ; it's only a choir rehearsal. 
Folks don't hev refreshments at a choir rehearsal. 

Sukey. You told me maybe we'd git some ice cream 
and choc'late cake. (Whines.) Maw, I want some ice 
cream and choc'late cake. 

Jerry. You got the right idee, Sukey. Go on and holler. 

Widder. Jerry Gosling, you orter hev a good sound 
spanking. 

Jerry (laughs as before). That's jest what maw says. 

Widder. Come along, Sukey, and get your hat. I'm goin' 
to take you right hum this minute. I'm afraid a storm's 
comin' up. 

Lowizy (goes to window and looks out). I believe there 
is. It's goin' to be ketchin' weather like yesterday when I 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 21 

got soppin' wet over to the medder lot. My land of love ! 

Widder. What is it, Lowizy? 

Lowizy. It's John Underhill comin' down the lane leadin' 
that staggerin' tramp. He's bringin' him here. 

Gloriana. Bringing a tramp here? 

Enter Deborah from L. 

Lowizy. Aunt Debby, your John's a bringin' a staggerin' 
old ragged tramp right here into the house. I'm skeerd to 
death. 

Deborah. You needn't be, Lowizy, my John won't let 
him harm you. 

Jonah. Maybe he's one of John's friends. (Wags head 
sadly.) John's unfortunate friends. I saw him lying in 
the gutter as I entered your domicile, Mrs. Underhill, but 
he evidently was intoxicated, so I did not stop to show him 
the error of his ways, but continued on my errand. 

Gloriana (at zvindow). They're at the door, Aunt 
Debby. 

Deborah. Go and help them, Gloriana. (Gloriana 
exits R.) 

Jerry (down L. to Sukey, all others watching door and 
window). What y' chawin'? 

Sukey. Gum. What y' suppose? 

Jerry. I'll swop yer this doo-daddle (showing post) 
fer it. 

Sukey. No, you won't. I couldn't chew that old hitchin' 
post. You must be crazy ! 

Enter Gloriana and John Underhill from R., leading 
Enoch Rone, who can scarcely walk. 

John Underhill. Just a poor tramp, mother. I think 
he's, nearly dead from lack of food. 

Deborah. Take him right in the spare room, John, and 
help him into bed. I'll be there to see to him in a minute. 
Gloriana, put the kettle on the fire. (Gloriana and John 
lead Enoch off at L.) 

Widder. Ain't you afraid he'll set fire to the house, er 
rob you, er sumpin' like that? Tramps is awful dangerous. 

Lowizy. I wouldn't a teched him with a ten-foot pole. 



22 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Jonah. In which you are perfectly right, Sister Custard. 
He's a sinner sunk in depths of depravity. We should not 
touch the pitch for fear of soiling our own fingers. I 
thought of that when I saw him lying in the lane. 

Lowizy. And so did I. (Standing next to Jonah down 
R.) 

Deborah (at L. C, half facing them). "A certain man 
went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among 
thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded 
him, and departed, leaving him half dead." 

(All listen breathlessly without moving.) 

Jonah. Now, Sister Underhill, I didn't mean — 

Deborah. Wait a minute. "And by chance there came 
down a certain priest that way. And when he saw him 
he passed by on the other side." 

Widder. Jest like Lowizy. 

Lowizy. I didn't want to have nothin' to do with him. 

Deborah. "And likewise a Levite came and looked on 
him and passed by on the other side. But a certain Samari- 
tan came where he was and had compassion on him, arid 
went to him and bound up his wounds and brought him to 
an inn and took care of him. Which now of these three 
was neighbor unto him that fell among the thieves?" 

A.ll. He that showed mercy on him. 

Lowizy (with bowed head) . Oh, I'm so ashamed, I'm so 
ashamed. We read the Good Book every day and hear its 
teachings every Sunday, but it's hard to realize that every 
lesson in it is meant for us. That parable of the Good 
Samaritan is jest as true today as it ever was. And I 
passed by on the other side. I'm so ashamed. This has 
taught me a lesson I'll never forget. 

Widder. I think we'd better all of us go home. Aunt 
Debby wants to help the poor sick man in there. Come, 
girls, let us git our bunnets and things as quietly as we can. 
(Ladies all go out at L.) 

Jerry (handing Jonah his hat). That's a fine hat, 
Brother Quackenbush. If you ever wanter swop jest let 
me know. 



f 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 23 

Jonah. I'm not thinking of hats, Jeremiah Gosling. 
I'm thinking of the parable of the Good Samaritan. I've 
learned a lesson this day, and I'm going home and think 
it over. Maybe I was wrong after all. Maybe I was. 
(Exit R.) 

Enter Widder, Sukey, Lowizy and Choir Ladies from L. 

Widder. We've all learned a lesson this day. 

Lowizy. Indeed we have. I'm never goin' to slight no 
poor unfortunate agin, as long as I live. What a good 
woman Aunt Deb is. 

Widder. Good ain't no name fer it. She's a saint, she 
is, a reg'lar Mother in Israel. Come along, Sukey. 

Lowizy. Let's go outside and sing her a serenade. That'll 
be real romatical. 

Widder. It might disturb that pore sick feller in there. 

Lowizy. We'll sing it real soft and he'll think it's angel 
voices maybe. 

Jerry. Yes, mebbe. (Laughs.) (All go out at R.) 

(They sing softly outside R., without accompaniment.) 

God Be With You Till We Meet Again. 

God be with you till we meet again, 
By his counsels guide, uphold you, 
With his sheep securely fold you, 

God be with you till we meet again. 

Till we meet, till we meet, 
Till we meet at Jesus' feet, 
Till we meet, till we meet, 
God be with you till we meet again. 
(The singing dies away in the distance.) 
Enter Gloriana from L. and Jerry from R. 

Jerry. How is he? 

Gloriana. He's much better. He got a bruise on his 
head when he fell. Aunt Deb is putting a bandage on it 
for him. Have the folks gone? 

Jerry. Yep, all but me. 



24 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Gloriana. Why didn't you take Lowizy Loviny hum? 

Jerry. Who? Me? {Laughs.) She might kidnap me 
an' I'm too young to git married ; at least that's what maw 
says. 

Gloriana. Oh, Lowizy's got her cap set for the parson. 

Jerry. She'll have a hot time, ef she gits him. Brother 
Guggs'll make things right lively fer Miss Custard, to say 
nothin' of the seven little Guggses. If I was her, I'd ruther 
be a old maid. Say, Gloriana, wanter make a swop? 

Gloriana. A swop? What kind, Jerry? 

Jerry. Ef you give me a invite to stay fer supper I'll 
swop ye this here doo-daddle. {Shows hitching-post.) 

Gloriana. What would I do with a hitching-post? 

Jerry. It might come in handy. Wanter swop? 

Gloriana. I don't believe I do. Jerry Gosling, you're 
the swoppiest boy I ever see. But I 'low you kin stay to 
supper. There's alius a plenty. 

Jerry. I won't stay 'less'n I kin swop. I know what I'll 
do. I'll go out an' split ye some wood. 

Gloriana. That'll be fine, Jerry. You got a real good 
heart. 

Jerry {at door R., laughs). That's jest what maw says. 
{Exits R.) 

Enter from L., Deborah and ' John, leading Enoch. 
Enoch has his head bandaged. 

Deborah. Here, set down in the easy chair. You'll feel 
better'n if you was in bed. 

Enoch Rone. Thank you, lady. {Sits R.) 

John. How's the head now? ■ 

Enoch. It don't pain nearly as much as it did. It was 
the heat and the hunger. 

Doborah {seated R. C). Did you have enough to eat? 

Enoch. Yes, indeed. That was the first square meal 
I've had in a month. 

Gloriana. I wouldn't call chicken soup and noodles and 
coffee and a piece of apple pie and cream a square meal. 
{Goes up L.) 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 25 

Enoch. I think it saved my life. God bless you, miss. 
I. can't find words to — to (hesitates and wipes his eyes). 

John (at L.). What is your name? 

Enoch. I'm just a tramp, sir. Only a tramp. 

Deborah. But you have a name? 

Enoch. It's dead and buried. Society has scratched it 
from its list long ago. I'm only an outcast, one against 
whom the world* shuts its door and sets its dogs on. I am 
no longer a man, I'm only a result. 

John. A result of what? 

Enoch. A result of drink. (John starts and looks 
ashamed.) Look at me. Look at these rags, this shrunken 
frame, these trembling hands, this tottering form. A wreck 
at twenty-five. I look fifty, don't I? 

John. Yes. 

Enoch. That is the power of drink. My story is like 
lots of others. A foolish boy easily led into temptation, 
blasted hopes, despair, drink — and then, this ! A poor piece 
of driftwood blown hither and thither by the rough winds 
of adversity. 

Deborah. Have you a home? 

Enoch. Yes. I lived in Buffalo. 

Deborah. And a mother? 

Enoch (bozvs his head, speaks in lozv voice). Yes. 

Deborah (goes to him, puts her hand on his shoulder). 
Then lift up your head. The darkest cloud may have a sil- 
ver lining. Be a man. 

Enoch (looks up in a dazed manner). A man? 

Deborah. There is no human being so low who does 
not contain within himself the moral seeds of his own re- 
demption. You say you have a mother. Have you ever 
thought of the debt you owe to that mother? How she has 
watched for you, prayed for you, longed for you night after 
night! She is waiting now, longing, praying! (Pause, then 
in a pleading voice.) Go home! 

Enoch. It's too late. The drink has got me. I'm too 
far gone. 



26 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Deborah. A boy is never too far gone that a mother's 
love can't reach him and save him. 

Enoch. You've got me a-thinking. 

Deborah. I'm glad I have. 

Enoch. I seem to see her now as I saw her last standing 
in the doorway waving goodbye. She thought I'd be a suc- 
cess, thought I'd make her proud of me, and I'm only a 
failure (sobs), only a drunken tramp. 

Deborah. See here, young man, will you go home if I 
give you the money? 

Enoch. Yes, I will. 

Deborah. And stop drinking? 

Enoch (hesitates). Well — 

Deborah. Will you try? 

Enoch (rises, grasps her hand). Yes, I'll try. 

Deborah. John, hand me the little blue vase. (John 
gets vase from mantel and gives it to her, she takes out sev- 
eral bills.) Here's ten dollars, mister. Take it. It ain't 
much, but every penny contains a prayer and a blessing. 

Enoch. I can't take it. 

Deborah. For your mother's sake. For my sake! Take 
the train to Ogdensburg and the boat to Buffalo. You'll be 
at home tomorrow, and God bless you. 

Enoch. I'm ashamed to take this money. Maybe the 
spell of drink is too strong for me. Maybe I can't give 
it up. (Standing at C.) 

Deborah (facing him). You can try, and the prayers 
of your mother will help you. Promise me that you'll try 
to be a man. 

Enoch (grasping her hand). Yes, with God's help I 
will. 

Deborah (leading him to door L.). That's right. It's 
never too late to mend. Go home and be somebody. Your 
mother is waiting for you. Go home, my boy, and God 
bless you ! 

Enoch (straightens up with determination) . I will, I 
will! (Takes money and goes to door R.) You are a real, 
Christian. If there was more Christianity like this in the 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 27 

world, there would be no injustice and poverty. Some day 
I'll come back and try and tell you how you have helped me. 
That's all. Good-bye. (Exit R.) 

Deborah. Good-bye, my boy, good-bye. (Standing at 
door R.) 

Gloriana (at rear). Well, if I don't get a hustle on me 
there won't be a bite to eat on the table, and it's after five. 
(Hurries out at L.) 

Deborah (comes down R. and sits down). How happy 
his mother will be when he comes home, how happy she'll 
be to have her boy back again. That'll mean more to her 
than all the riches of the world. 

John (sits on hassock at her feet). Mother! 

Deborah (strokes his hair). My John! 

John. He said he was only twenty-five! What a hor- 
rible lesson. Ruined by drink and only twenty-five. 

Deborah. Yes, John, ruined by drink. You see its 
power. 

John. An outcast, a wanderer on the face of the earth. 
No money, no home, no clothes, no food, and all because 
of drink. 

Deborah (with tears in her eyes). And can you heed 
the lesson, son? 

John. Can I? (With great determination.) It is seared 
upon my memory in letters of fire. Mother, I have been 
wild and weak, almost as weak as that poor tramp, but from 
this moment, with your help and God's, no drop of liquor 
shall ever pass my lips again. I swear it ! 

Deborah (puts her arms around him, speaks after a 
pause). And you will keep your oath. 

John (rises). From this moment I am a man ! I've been 
led astray by evil companions. I allowed them to take me 
in paths of shame and degradation. But I have learned 
my lesson. Tomorrow I will start to work a changed man. 
It's not too late and I will never drink another drop as long 
as I live, I promise you. 

Deborah (faces him). John, this is the happiest mo- 



28 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

ment of my life. . How proud your father would be if he 
could see you now. 

John (leading her toward R. door). Who knows, 
mother ? Probably he does. They have called me the worst 
of- the deacon's six, the black sheep of the family, but all 
that is over now. I'll show 'em ; I'll show the world that 
blood will tell. I'm John Underbill's son and from hence- 
forth I'll be a credit to him and to you. 

Deborah. Heaven bless you, John, and help you to keep 
in the paths of righteousness. (They go out at L., John 
supporting her). 

Enter Jerry from R. 

Jerry. Got all the wood split and I'm all ready fer sup- 
per. (Goes down L. and sits down.) Purty hard job, but 
honest work gives you a good appetite. 

Enter from R. Charley Underhill, escorting Isabel, 
Simpscott. 

. 'Charley. Come right in, Isabel. I'll call mother and 
tell her that we've got company for supper. 

Jerry. You bet you have. You got me. (Rises and 
bozvs.) 

Charley (at R. C). Hello, Jerry, I didn't know you 
were here. 

Jerry. I'm the company. Come here a minute. 

Charley. Just a moment, Jerry. (Seats Isabel at R.) 
Excuse me, dear, Jerry Gosling wants to speak to me. 

Isabel Simpscott. Oh, very well. 

Charley (crosses to Jerry)-. What is it? , 

Jerry (points with his thumb at Isabel). That yer gal? 

Charley. Yes, Jerry, Miss Simpscott is my fiancee. 

Jerry. Yer what? 

Charley. My girl. 

Jerry. Oh, say, Charley, you know that there freckle- 
faced pug-nosed Huldy Sourapple who lives down at Hook- 
worm Crick? 

Charley. No, I don't believe I do. 

Jerry. Aw, sure you do. (With expansive gesture.) 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 29 

Great big gal. Weighs purt' nigh two hundred and fifty. 
(Grins.) She's mine. 

Charley. Indeed ? 

Jerry. Yep. How'll yer swop? 

Charley (smiles). Not this evening. 

Jerry. Huldy is a .good cook and she's got real nice 
manners. Tell y' what I'll do. I'll give y' this here doo- 
daddle -to boot. (Shozus post.) 

Charley. No, thank you, Jerry. I wouldn't like to 
deprive you of Huldy. 

Jerry. Oh, it ain't no depravity, Charley; no depravity 
at all. (Charley returns to Isabel and talks to her in 
pantomime.) I never see sich a place. Ain't no one here 
wants ter swop nothin'. 

Enter Gloriana from L. 

Gloriana. Jerry Gosling, come out'n help me mash the 
'taters. 

Jerry. All right, Gloriana. I'll mash 'em with this here 
doo-daddle. (Exit L.) 

Gloriana. Afternoon, Charley. I didn't know you'd 
got back yet. 

Charley. Yes. I just drove over from the village. 
You know Miss Simpscott, don't you? 

Gloriana. Why, sure. Howdy do, Isabella? 

Isabel (seated, speaks coldly). Good afternoon, Miss 
Perkins. 

Charley. Tell mother we're here, Gloriana. 

Gloriana. All right. -She's gettin' supper. Excuse me, 
Miss Simpscott. (Exit L.) 

Isabel. I don't approve of the hired help being so 
familiar, Charley. 

Charley. Why, Gloriana's just like one of the family. 
She's been with us ever since sister Rebecca moved out 
west. She's a real nice girl, too. 

Isabel (scornfully) . She probably is, but I never asso- 
ciate with our help at home. 

Charley. Mother thinks 'the world and all of Gloriana. 



30 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Isabel. Do you think I'd better stay for tea, Charley? 
Mrs. Underhill isn't expecting company. 

Charley. Oh, that don't worry mother. There's always 
room for one more and when we tell her the news she'll 
welcome you as her own daughter. 

Isabel. Of course, when we are married you expect to 
move to the city, don't you? 

Charley. Maybe, in time. Not right away, of •course. 
I want to get a good start first. 

Isabel. I'm sick of country life, Charley. You could 
do ever so much better in the city. Surely you wouldn't 
expect me to live here? 

Charley. Why, of course. We could have the ell all 
to ourselves and be just as happy as a bug in a rug. 

Isabel. I'd rather have a little home of our own (pause) 
in the city. 

Charley. And that's just what you will have, in three 
or four years. 

Isabel. You must be more ambitious. There's no chance 
for you to advance here in Canton and my sister says that 
there are openings every day to be found in Watertown. 
Good openings, too. You could make your fortune in the 
city. Sister has so many influential friends. ' 
Enter John from L. 

John. Oh, excuse me. I didn't know you were here. 

Charley. Isabel, you know my brother John. 

Isabel (shakes hands with John at R. C). I've often 
heard of you. 

John (embarrassed). Yes, ma'am. Thank you. I'll tell 
mother you're here. (Exits L.) 

Isabel (at R. C. to Charley, who is at R.). I thought 
you said he was going away. 

Charley. He is, just as soon as he can get a job. 

Isabel (scornfully). I imagine that would be rather 
difficult for him here in Canton where he is so well known. 

Charley. John is only a boy, Isabel. He means well 
enough but he is weak and easily led into temptation. 

Isabel. He is the talk of the village. They call him the 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 31 

worst of the deacon's six. You and your brother Thomas 
should send him away from here. Maybe he'd do better 
out west with Isaac and Rebecca. 

Charley. Mother can't bear to see him go. He's her 
youngest, you know, but probably it would be better for 
him out west. Maybe he'd make a man out of himself 
if he could get away from the Hookworm Crick crowd. 
Enter Deborah from L. 

Deborah. I'm sorry I couldn't come before. I was get- 
ting supper. 

Charley. Mother, this is Isabel. 

Deborah. I know your father and mother, Isabel, and 
I've heard Charley talk about you so much that it seems 
as if I really knew you, too. Let me take your things. 
Now sit down. Act jest like you was to hum. 
Enter Gloriana from L. 

Isabel. I've been intending to visit you for a long time, 
Mrs. Underhill, but somehow I've never had time before. 
I've been so busy this summer. (Removes her hat and 
gives it to Deborah.) 

Deborah. Gloriana, take this in the spare room. Then 
you can lay the table for supper. 

Gloriana. Yes'm. (Exits L. with hat.) 

Charley. Mother, we've got a secret for you. 

Deborah. A secret? Charley, come here. (Puts her 
hands on his shoulder and looks in his face.) I can read 
it in your eyes. (Holds out her arms to Isabel.) 

Isabel. I told Charley we'd better let you know right 
away. 

Deborah. Daughter! (Takes Isabel in her arms and 
kisses her.) Charley's a good boy, Isabel, and he'll make 
you a good husband. (Goes to L. and calls.) John, John! 
(Isabel and Charley go to R.) 

Enter John from L. 

John. Did you want me, mother? 

Deborah (to Isabel). You don't mind my telling John, 
do you? It's all in the family. She's promised him, John. 



32 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

I'm to have a new daughter. Go and bid her welcome into 
the family. 

John [shakes hands with Isabel). I do, Miss Simp- 
scott. I'm awfully proud to have you for a sister. 

Isabel (rather severely). Sister-in-law. 

John. It's all the same in Dutch. Charley, old man, 
put 'er there. (Slaps him on the back and shakes hands 
with him-.) You're all right. 

Deborah. My, my, when Charley gets married I won't 
have any son left to me but you, John. Then I suppose 
you'll be the next to go. 

John. Don't you believe it, mother. None of the girls'll 
look at me. 

Deborah. Then they don't know what they're missing, 
that's all I've got to say. First it was Thomas, and then 
Isaac, and then both of the girls, and now it's Charley. 
You ought to call Thomas and Susan up over the phone 
and tell them the news. 

Isabel. Oh, no. We won't announce it for a few days. 

Charley. Not until I have time to get the ring from 
Watertown. 

Enter Jerry from L. in time to hear the last speech. 

Jerry (comes quickly to Charley). Goin' to buy a 
ring? I got a jim dandy. (Rubs it on trousers, then holds 
up his hand to display ring.) Ain't that a lalla-paloosa ? 
How'll y' swop? 

Charley (laughs). I don't think Isabel would care for 
that ring, Jerry. 

Jerry. It's a purty good ring, jest 'bout the same as gold. 
Tell y' what I'll do, I'll throw in givin' you lessons on the 
trombone. 

John (pulls him to rear). You mustn't disturb them, 
Jerry. Lovers don't like to be disturbed. 

Jerry. Is them lovers? 

John (laughs). I calc'late. 

Jerry. Wonder ef I could swop him a book I bought 
over t' Ogdensburg? It's called "How to Woo and Win" 
and it tells all erbout it. 






AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 33 

Deborah. Jerry, go and tell Gloriana to bring in the 
white table cloth and the best chiny and hurry up. You're 
as slow as molasses in the winter time. 

Jerry (at door L.). That's jest what maw says. 
(Laughs and exits L.) 

Deborah. Come, John, help with the table. (They re- 
move things from table.) 

Enter Jerry and Gloriana from L. carrying zvhite cloth 
together. Gloriana and Deborah put cloth on table, then 
they set the table, bringing in dishes and cutlery from L. 
John and Jerry at L. and Charley and Isabel at R. con- 
versing in pantomime. 

Charley. It will be the happiest day of my life when 
I see you getting supper in our own little home. 

Isabel. The idea ! We'll have a hired girl, Charley, or 
else we'll live at a hotel. You mustn't think you can make 
a kitchen drudge of me. 

Charley. Certainly not. You'll have everything your 
little heart desires. 

Jerry (who has been listening, takes John by sleeve). 
Did y' hear that? 

John. Come away, Jerry. You mustn't be an eaves- 
dropper. 

Jerry. I ain't. I'm jest listenin' so'z I kin git some new 
idees to spring on my gal down at Hookworm Crick. Huldy 
Sourapple — you know her. (Expansive gesture.) Great 
big fat gal. 

John. Yes, I know Huldy. 

Jerry. Kinder thought y' did. Say, John! 

John. What is it, Jerry? 

Jerry. You hadn't orter run around with them Hook- 
worm Crick fellers. They're a bad lot. I hear they shot 
a man over by the blacksmith shop last night. I used to 
go with 'em some, but maw licked me like thunder, so I 
quit. Liable to land up in the calaboose if you run with 
that bunch, that's what maw says. 

John. I know it, Jerry. I'm going to turn over a new 



34 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

leaf tonight. Tomorrow I'm going to get a job and live 

straight. 

Jerry (extends hand). Shake ! You've got the makin' of 
a good man in ye. But evil communions corrupt good man- 
ners is what maw says. 

Deborah. John, set up the chairs. (He does so, Glo- 
riana looks out of the window.) Come, Gloriana. 

Gloriana. Somebody's drivin' up the lane, Aunt Deb. 
It's a sorrel horse and a buckboard. (Charley and Isabel 
are seated at table facing L., John and Jerry seated facing 
R., Isabel and John are nearest the audience. Deborah 
seated facing audience, with empty chair next to her, also 
facing audience, for Gloriana, who is looking out of the 
window.) It's Mr. Todd. 

Deborah. The sheriff? (Rises and goes to the door at 
R.) My land, I ain't seen Quintus Todd in a month of 
Sundays. (Opens the door.) 

Enter from R. Quintus Todd He stands at door. 

Quintus Todd. Howdy do, folks. 

Deborah. Come right in, sheriff. Had supper? We 
was jest settin' down. Gloriana, set another chair. Awful 
glad you dropped in. We ain't seen you since election. 
Lemme take your things. 

Quintus. Now don't bother, Mis' Underhill. I don't 
want no supper. 

Deborah. Pshaw, nonsense, you set right down. John, 
take the sheriff's horse and give him a feed. (John comes 
to C.) 

Quintus (comes C). No, Mis' Underhill, I haven't 
time. Fact is, I've a mighty disagreeable piece of business 
on hand, and I'd give all I'm worth if I didn't have to do it. 

(Pause, all look at each other in puzzled manner. Glo- 
riana at rear L., Jerry at front L. John at L. C. Quin- 
tus at C. Deborah at R. C. Charley and Isabel dozvn 
front at R. All standing.) 

Deborah. Well, sheriff, ef any of my haymakers has 
been doin' anything wrong they must have been mighty sly 
about it. They're eatin' supper out in the ell. Do you want 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 35 

me to call 'em? Duty is duty, and if it's disagreeable, it ain't 
your fault. 

Quintus (head down, turns azvay from her). Aunt Deb, 
sooner than — 

Deborah (takes his arm, he faces her). Out with it, 
Quintus. Quickest work is kindest work. (Pause. He 
looks at her sadly.) 

Quintus. Well, it's got to be done. I'm after John. 

All (surprised). John? 

Deborah (puzzled). John? (Pause, she is dazed by the 
news, puts hand to brozv.) My John? (She looks at John 
in dazed manner, he drops his head, she looks at Quintus.) 
I — I s'pose it's a joke, Quintus, but it ain't the kind of a 
joke I relish. 

Quintus (seriously). I wish it was. (Turns to John.) 
Come, John, you'll have to go with me. 

John. What for? What have I done? 

Quintus (takes his arm). Come along, John, and come 
quiet. You ain't treatin' the old lady right by acting up. 

Deborah (with spirit). Don't you worry about me, 
sheriff. What's my boy done? What is the charge? 

Quintus. He's charged with shootin' old Cyrus Bart- 
lett with intent to kill and stealin' two of his hosses. I 
hold a warrant for his arrest. 

Jerry (comes to John, touches him, John turns to 
Jerry, who speaks low but audibly). John, I'll soak him 
on the head with this here doo-daddle, and you run like 
thunder. 

Deborah (earnestly, to Quintus). It ain't true. John, 
tell. him it ain't true. Tell him you're innocent. 

John. I am innocent, as innocent as you! (To Deb- 
orah.) 

Deborah. I knew it, I knew it. Sheriff, you take your 
hands off'n my boy. I won't stand it. You let my boy 
alone ! 

Quintus. You can't stand out agin the lav/, Mis' Under- 
bill. I'm awful sorry, but there ain't no help for it. Your 
boy was with the Hookworm Crick gang last night. They'd 



36 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

all been drinkin' hard and stole Cyrus Bartlett's two hosses 
out'n his barn. Cyrus ran after 'em and caught up with 'em 
at the blacksmith shop. Then one of 'em turned and shot 
him. 

Deborah. But why do you think it was my John? 

Quintus. The man who did the shootin' dropped this 
gun in the road. There's the gun. (Shows it.) Ever see 
it before. 

(John takes it. Pause. All look at him.) 

John. Yes, it's my gun. 

Quintus. Then it was you who shot Cyrus Bartlett. 

John. No, it wasn't. I don't remember anything about 
the gun, but I know I didn't do the shootin'. It was the 
man who rode right next to me. I didn't shoot him. You 
don't think I did, do you? (Quintus turns away.) Char- 
ley! (Looks at Charley, who drops his head.) You be- 
lieve me, Jerry, don't you? (Turns to Jerry, who looks 
away.) You all think I shot him? You don't none of you 
take my word! Mother, do you believe me? 

Deborah (takes him in her arms). Yes, John, I believe 
you. I know you speak the truth. Let the whole world 
turn agin you if they will. I know you're innocent. 

John. Mother! 

Quintus (touches John on shoulder). Are you coming? 
(Deborah goes to Gloriana.) 

John. Yes, I'm coming. I ain't afraid to face the law, 
because I know I never shot Cyrus Bartlett. I'm innocent, 
and when a man can face his God he needn't be afraid to 
face the law! 

Tableau: Gloriana supporting Deborah up L. Jerry 
down L. looking at John. Quintus and John at C. Isa- 
bel and Charley down R. 

Curtain. 

Second Picture : Quintus and John at door. Deborah 
standing with John. Others in same position. 

Deborah. I'll stand by you, John. I'll stand by you. 

(Sobs.) ~ 

x ' Curtain. 






AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 37 

Act II. 

A MOTHER'S LOVE. 

Scene: Same as Act I, but a winter afternoon three 
years later. Fire burning in the fireplace. Icicles hanging 
from window and snow is seen falling at intervals. Blue 
light outside window. Ironing table at C. Deborah stands 
ironing, putting clothes in basket on floor. Plaintive music, 
"Where's My Wandering Boy Tonight" at rise of curtain. 
Enter Jerry from R., wearing cap and mittens and carry- 
ing an armful of wood. Music ceases when Jerry speaks. 

Jerry (puts wood in box near fireplace). Colder'n blue 
an' purple blazes and snowin' like sixty. (Slaps both arms 
across chest.) Seems like I'm all friz up inside. (Re- 
moves cap and shakes snow in woodbox.) 

Deborah. Set down by the fire, Jeremiah, and warm 
yourself. 

Jerry. Got my chores all did up and now I gotta go and 
fix up for singing school. (Removes mittens and woolen 
muffler. ) Say, Aunt Deb ! 

Deborah (ironing white skirt). Well? 

Jerry (comes down R. C). Look what I got. (Displays 
large silver watch and very large chain made of steel.) 

Deborah. A watch? Well, well, ain't that pretty? Does 
it go good? 

Jerry. No'm, it don't go at all, but it certainly looks 
swell. Paw gimme a heifer fer Christmas and I swapped 
him fer the watch and six dollars to boot. An' I got sump'm 
else. It's a secret, but I calc'late you won't tell. Lookee 
yere ! (Shows ring in box.) 

Deborah (takes box and looks at ring). A ring! Ain't 
it handsome. Jerry Gosling, are you goin' to git engaged? 
You're too young. 

Jerry (laughs). That's jest what maw says. Ain't it 
splendiferous? 

Deborah. It certainly is right handsome. Is it a di'- 
mond? 



38 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Jerry. Sure. If it ain't, I got skun outa two shillin'. 

Deborah. And who's it fer? 

Jerry (acts bashful, tzvists foot). Oh, fer a gal. 

Deborah. I'll bet it's Huldy Sourapple. 

Jerry (with closed lips signifying assent). Um-umph! 
You know her. Lives over to Hookworm Crick. (Expan- 
sive gesture.) Big fat gal. I been sparkin' her nigh onto 
four years, long before John went away. 

Doborah (irons). Poor John! I wonder ef I'll ever see 
my boy agin ! 

Jerry. Why of course you will. He's been outa prison 
fer nearly a year now. He'll come back some day and 
surprise you, a rich man. That's what maw says. John 
alius was a nice boy. 

Deborah (crying a little). He was my baby, Jerry, my 
youngest boy. Oh, I've tried to have faith and pray every 
night fer him to come back, but I ain't heerd from him fer 
nigh onto two years. It's hard, Jerry, it's awful hard, but 
the Lord knows best. 

(Sleigh bells heard outside. Jerry goes to window.) 

Jerry. It's the Widder Bill Pindle. 

Deborah. Go out and put her hoss in the barn. 

Jerry. Yes'm. (Puts on cap and mittens and goes R.) 

Enter Widder from R. Jerry bumps into her. 

Widder. Jerry Gosling, you- watch where yer agoin\ 
You ain't got a brain in yer head. 

Jerry (laughs). That's jest what maw says. (Exits R.) 

Widder. My lands, but it's cold. Afternoon, Aunt 
Debby. 

Deborah (shakes hands with her). Take off your things 
and come right in. 

Widder. I was jest on my way down to the village and 
stopped by to git a warm. (Removes shawls, cloaks, etc. 
Takes off hood.) Ain't it cold? 

Deborah. Indeed it is. You'll excuse me, Widder, fer 
keepin' on with my work, but I'm aimin' to git this done 
fer Isabel. They're goin' to the city on the evening train. 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 39 

Widder. Goin' fer good, I understand. 

Deborah. Yes, Charley thinks he can do better in Water- 
town. 

Widder. Waal, I ain't no backbiter, as it were, but ef 
I was in your shoes I'd be tickled e'en a'most to death to 
git Isabel Simpscott out'n my house. 

Deborah. Now, Widder Bill, Isabel means well. 

Widder. If you wasn't a saint on earth, as it were, you 
couldn't ha' put up with her as long as you hev. And the 
way she talks about y' ! She even makes fun of your eddi- 
cation, and every one knows you used to teach in the Dees- 
trick School long 'fore Isabel Simpscott ever had a idee of 
bein' born, as it were. 

Deborah. I know it, Widder. She's alius finding fault 
with my talk. I spoke right up to her last month. I told 
her that I never et a grammar er swallowed a 'rithmetic, 
but that I allers respected old age and kep' the faith ac- 
cordin' to my lights and thet the good Lord didn't jedge 
people by their grammar or book learnin'. That's what' I 
told her. (Irons.) 

Widder. I'm glad you did. Fer mercy sakes, Aunt 
Deb, jest look at that white skirt. Not only ruffles, but 
tucks as well. My, my my ! Ruffles and tucks ! And you 
hev to iron it. I wouldn't object to plain skirts, but when 
it comes to sech filigree as this, ef it was me, I'd let it go 
unironed. Isabel Simpscott, indeed ! I never see sich a 
womern. 

Deborah. There, there, Widder, she's going away to- 
day, and that'll be an end on't. 

Widder. And air you goin' to stay here all alone on the 
farm ? 

Deborah. I calc'late to. 

Widder. I'd think you'd want to go into the village and 
live with Thomas er Susan. 

Deborah. I'd ruther stay right here in the old house, 
Widder. I've lived here nigh onto fifty years. John brought 
me here as a bride. All my babies was born here. It don't 



40 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

seem like I could bear to live anywheres else. And then 
Susan has got sich a big family. 

Widder. I should think you'd like to live with Thomas. 
He's doin' real well, I hear. He owns enough buildings 
in the village to cover an acre lot. 

Deborah. I know it, Widder, but it wouldn't seem like 
home to me. No place on earth 'ud seem like home but 
right here. 

Widder. Then I think Charley and Isabel orter stay 
here with you and cheer yer declinin' years, as it were. 
You've had your share of troubles and tribberlations, Aunt 
Deb, you cert'n'y have. Six children and ever' last one of 
'em moved away from you. And poor John, that was the 
worst of all. Shet up in States Prison fer two years and 
then that miserable Tobe Rulo on his death bed savin' he 
was guilty of the very crime John was arrested fer. It was 
hard, Aunt Deb. I calc'late you don't ever hear from him, 
do you? 

De'borah. Not a word; that's what makes it so hard. 
I sometimes wonder if he's still livin'. 

Widder. Why, of course he is. He'll, come back some 
day and you'll be real proud of him. I wish you would 
come over to the singing school tonight. 

Deborah. Me? I'm too old for such things, Widder. 

Widder. I suppose Gloriana and Mr. Rone is comin'. 

Deborah. I dunno, but I suppose they be. 

Widder. He's right attentive to Gloriana, ain't he? 
Shuddent wonder if they'd make a match, as it were. 

Deborah (ironing). Gloriana's a real nice girl. 

Widder. Of course she is and Mr. Rone is makin' money 
hand over fist down, in the village. Funny about him settlin' 
in Canton. Nobody ever hearn tell of him before he came 
and he never says a word about his past life. It's a right 
good match fer Gloriana. 

Deborah. If it's a match I ain't seen anything of it. He 
jest drops in to pass the time o' day. 

Widder. Oh, hev you heerd about the parson ? He's 
goin' to take Millie Redfetter to singin' school tonight. 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 41 

Won't Lowizy Loviny Custard be hoppin' when she finds 
it out. 

Deborah. Sh! She's in there. (Points to L.) 

Widder. She is? What fur? 

Deborah. Isabel's havin' some sewin' done. She calc'- 
lates to be right up to style when she reaches the city. 
Enter Lowizy from L. 

Lowizy. Waal, thank goodness, thet's done. Ef ever 
there was a more meachin' womern won the face of the earth 
than Isabel Simpscott I've yet to meet her. G' doo, Widder ! 
(Sits at R.) 

Deborah (putting the last garment in the basket). 
There, I've finished with the ironin'. Now I got to help 
her pack her trunk. Will you excuse me? (Exits L.) 

Lowizy. Aunt Deb's a reg'lar human slave to Isabel, 
and she ain't as peert and chirky as she used to be neither. 

Widder. She's hed enough trials and tribberlations to 
take the chirkiness all out'n her, as it were. 

Lowizy. I've hed an awful time with Isabel. Nothin' 
I made seemed to suit her. You'd think s 1 :e was a reg'lar 
queen on her golden throne, at that New York hotel called 
the Walled-ofT Castoria. And her husband. My, . my, 
Charley Underhill is jest about as shifty as a cow black- 
bird. I writ some poetry about 'em leavin' but she so upsot 
my feelings about the dresses I made her, that I ain't goin' 
to read it to her. 

Widder. I ain't seen you sence Christmas, Lowizy. Did 
y 5 git many presents? 

Lowizy. Yes, indeed. All my gentlemen friends remem- 
bered me. And it's so sweet to be remembered. 

Widder. What did the parson give you? 

Lowizy. The loveliest little blue bow fer my neck. 
Wasn't that romantical? I wonder ef he meant anything 
by it? When a man sends a young girl a bow fer Christ- 
mas, I think it's a hint to .say the least. In the language 
of correspondence it's a sign he wants to be my beau. 
(Giggles.) Ain't I the silly little thing? 

Widder. You'd better send him a mitten. You kin do 



42 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

better than that, Lowizy Custard, and you know it. A 
widower with seven little Guggses. 

Lowizy. Why, Widder Bill, how you talk! I think 
Brother Guggs 'ud make a perfectly lovely husband. He's 
such a handsome man. 

Widder. Humph ! Handsome ? His face looks like a sick 
puppy with the mumps and influenzy. Handsome? Why, 
Lowizy Custard, he ain't more'n four foot high. 

Lowizy. I allers did like a little man, Widder. They're 
more pettish than the bfg ones. And he's so romantical. 

Widder. I hear he's shinin' up to Millie Redfetter. 

Lowizy. What? To her? Why, she's young enough to 
be his darter. 

Widder. That ain't no difference nowadays. 'T any 
rate he's takin' her to the singing school tonight. 

Lowizy. He is? Honest, Widder Bill, is he? 

Widder. I ain't ever been accused of tellin' a fib, Lo- 
wizy Loviny Custard. 

Lowizy. But I'm so surprised. I thought he was goin' 
to ask me. Waal of all things. Millie Redfetter ! Wonder 
ef he's tryin' to run a kindergarten. I alius knowed he 
didn't have serial intentions toward the holy wedlocks of 
matrimony. The idea ! I jest can't git over it. And him 
a widderer with seven children. I never did like him no 
how, him bein' a man that wears eye-glasses on his nose! 

Widder. Waal, I got to be gittin' along. (Calls.) Jere- 
miah ! Jerry ! Where be ye ? 

Jerry (outside at rear). Here I be. 

Widder. Bring out my hoss. I've got to be gittin' along. 
Enter Deborah from L. 

Deborah. Going so soon, Widder? 

Widder. I jest gotta. I've got to git dressed fer the 
singin' school. Maybe we'll stop by here and git a warm 
on our way to the schoolhouse. 

Deborah. Yes, do. I'll be terribly lonesome when Char- 
ley and Isabel go. 

Widder (putting on her things). It's started to snow 
agin. Seems like this winter'll never end. 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 43 

Enter Jerry from R. 

Jerry. The hoss is all ready, Widder. Say, air y' goin' 
to let me sing a solo tonight? I kin sing "My Bonnie Lies 
Over the Ocean" so'z it 'ud bring tears to your eyes. 

Widder. The last time you sung a solo the map fell 
off'n the blackboard right on the teacher's head. That's 
a warnin', Jerry Gosling, that singin' solos ain't in your 
line. 

Jerry {laughs). That's jest what maw says. 

Widder. We'll see you later, Aunt Deb, and you, too, 
Lowizy. (Exit R.) 

Deborah. Isabel asked if you'd come in and help her 
pack. She's afraid she'll be late fer the train. 

Lowizy. I'll go, Aunt Deb, and I'll take my breaking 
heart with me. (Crosses to L.) 

Deborah. Your breaking heart? What broke it? 

Lowizy. The perfidy of man, a heartless critter with 
seven young'ns ! My feelings have been trounced upon and 
my heart is lacerated to the very core. Woe is me, woe is 
me! (Exit L.) 

Jerry. Say, Aunt Deb, will y' lend me the loan of your 
purple ribbon sash to wear fer a necktie at the singin' 
school tonight? 

Deborah. Certainly, Jerry. Tell Gloriana to get it for 
you. 

Jerry. Maw says I alius look awfully good in purple, 
it jest suits my complexion. Goin' to swop off my watch 
fer a purple suit of clothes, first chance I git to see Jay 
Benton down to th' village. I s'pose I gotta drive Charley 
and her over to the depot, ain't I? 

Deborah. Yes, you'd better hitch up right away. They're 
e'en a most ready to go. 

Jerry. I'll do it quicker'n greased lightning. I gotta git 
hum quick and all dressed up so'z to be ready fer the sleigh 
when it comes by to take us to singin' school. Widder Bill 
Pindle won't lemme sing no solo at the singin* schooL Now, 
I think I got a right fine voice. 



44 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Deborah. Your voice is all right, Jerry. It's real good 
to call cows and sich, but it ain't much on singin' solos. 

Jerry (laughs). That jest what maw says. (Exits R.) 
Enter Gloriana from L. 

Gloriana (coming from L. C). Aunty Deb! 

Deborah. What is it, Gloriana? (They remove the iron- 
ing board.) 

Gloriana. Charley and Jonah Quackenbush is drawin' 
some kind of a legal paper out in the ell. They said they 
wanted me to be a witness. 

Deborah. Yes. Charley wants me to mortgage the 
place to Brother Quackenbush. 

Gloriana. But you ain't goin' . to do it, are you ? 

Deborah (softly). Yes, Gloriana, I reckon I be. 

Gloriana. But it ain't right, Aunty Deb, to put a mort- 
gage on your old home. Suppose you couldn't pay it. Jonah 
Quackenbush 'ud foreclose in a hurry and then you'd hev 
to turn the whole place over to him. Don't you do it, 
Aunty Deb, please don't. Don't mortgage the old place. 
It ain't right. Charley ain't got no right to ask sech a 
thing of you. 

Deborah. It does seem kind of hard, Gloriana, but 
Charley 'lows he needs four hundred dollars to git a start 
in the city. He's had real bad luck, Charley has. I spent 
purt' nigh two hundred when John got in trouble three 
years ago and Charley thinks I ought to do as much fer 
him. 

Gloriana. Yes, but this is different. Charley ain't in 
trouble. He could make a good livin' here and you could 
still own the farm. 

Deborah. But Isabel won't live here no longer. 

Gloriana. Oh, Aunty Deb, please don't sign that paper. 
(Cries.) It ain't right. Suppose things don't turn out good 
in the city fer Charley, suppose you can't pay the mortgage 
when it's due, they'd turn you out o' house and home, after 
livin' here all these years. Don't you do it, Aunty Deb, 
don't you do it. 

Enter Charley and Jonah from L. 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 45 

Charley. Mother, we've got the paper all drawn up. 
All you have to do is to sign it. Gloriana, get the pen and 
ink. Sit down, mother. Sit down right here. Here's the 
paper. {Spreads it out on table.) 

Deborah. I dunno whether I ought to sign it er not, 
Charley. I'd hate mightily to lose the old home. I'm gittin' 
to be an old woman, son, and it 'ud break my heart to have 
to leave the old place. 

Jonah. Ah, my dear Mrs. Underhill, I may say, my 
dear sister, have no fear. Charles is young and strong and 
ambitious. He'll make a name for himself in the busy 
marts of the great city. He'll be a rich man some day, 
Sister Underhill, and you'll be proud of him. Have no f ear 
for your son Charles. He'll pay the mortgage when the 
time comes. 

Deborah. But suppose he gits sick or something. Char- 
ley, I don't want to sign it. It seems like I was signin' my 
own death warrant. 

Charley. I suppose you rather have me go to the city 
' and beg for a living. What chance has a man got in Water- 
town without some money to start him up in business. You 
won't lose anything. I know I'll succeed. Why, Isabel's 
sister has lots of rich, influential friends in the city, and 
once I get a start, I'm bound to succeed. 

Deborah (sits at table). But, Charley, suppose we can't 
pay this here mortgage when the time comes, what would 
happen to me? 

Charley. I guess you have three sons and two daugh- 
ters to take care of you, mother. 

Deborah. But I don't want anybody to take keer of me. 
If I only 'have my house and my farm I can take keer of 
myself. 

Charley. I'm only asking for my share. Look how 
much* you spent for John when he was sent to prison! 
What 'have you got to show for that? Thomas and Susan 
don't need any of the money, they're both doing well in 
the village, and Isaac and Rebecca have both got homes 
of their own out west. Please, mother ! 



46 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Deborah. Seems like I've alius worked hard fer all of 
my children, Charley. Worked fer 'em day in and day out, 
winter and summer, and it's been hard. After your father 
died I saw to it that you all got an eddication and that you 
was jest as well dressed as anyone. You were all I had 
and I worked like a slave for all of you. But don't think I 
begrudge it. God made mother-love, Charley, it's His law 
and His rule. 'I'd a died, ef need be, fer ary one of you. 
There ain't no sacrifice I wouldn't have made for you, 'cause 
I'm your mother! (Pause.) 

Charley. Then sign the paper and Brother Quacken- 
bush will let me have the four hundred dollars right away. 

Jonah (takes zvallet out and counts out bills). Yes, 
Sister Underhill, all I am waiting for is your signature. 
(Points to paper.) Sign right on that line. 

Enter Isabel and Lowizy from L. carrying grips. 

Isabel. Come, Charley, it's time for us to start. Jerry's 
got the cutter at the door. 

Charley. Just a minute, Isabel. Mother hasn't signed 
the paper yet. 

Isabel. Then please hurry, mother. We don't want to 
miss the train. My sister is going to meet us. 

Deborah. I dunno what to do. 

Charley. Sign it, mother. It's only fair to me, after 
what you've done for John. It don't seem right for you to 
show partiality. 

Isabel. Please, mother, hurry. 

Deborah. All right, Charley, I'll sign it for your sake. 
For the sake of my children. (Signs paper, all watching 
breathlessly.) 

Jon ah (after a pause). There, there, that's right. Now, 
Charley, you and Gloriana sign as witnesses. (Rubs his 
hands together.) Four hundred dollars is a lot of money, 
but I'm a good neighbor, Sister Underhill, and I'll pay him 
every cent in cash. (Charley signs.) The note runs two 
years. Why in two years Charley will be a rich man. Now, 
Gloriana — (hands pen to Gloriana.) 

Gloriana. No ! I won't sign that paper. 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 47 

All. Gloriana ! 

Gloriana. It ain't right, it ain't right ! Charley's young 
and strong and able to care for himself and Aunty Deb is 
an old woman. It's a sin, I say, and I won't sign ! (Pause, 
all look at each other.) It ain't right, it ain't right! (Sobs 
and exits L. crying.) 

Jonah (after a pause). Sister Custard, perhaps you'd 
like to sign as a witness. 

Lowizy. I'll do anything to oblige. (Sits at table.) Shall 
I sign my full name? 

Jonah. Yes, your full name. 

Lowizy (spells out each letter as she writes zvith many 
flourishes). Lowizy Loviny Susannah Wrigglesford Cus- 

Enter Jerry from R. 

Jerry. Cutter's all ready and we ain't more'n got time 
to make the train. 

Jonah. There's your four hundred dollars. Now, gimme 
the mortgage. 

Charley (taking money). Here's the mortgage. (Gives 
it.) Mother, you've lifted a load off my mind. I never 
could have got along without this help from you. I'll never 
forget it, never. (Takes Isabel's arm and goes to door R.) 

Isabel. We'll have to hurry. (Goes out R. } followed 
by Charley and Deborah and Jonah.) 

Lowizy. Good-bye. Hope you'll have a pleasant jour- 
ney. (Rushes to door R. at same time as Jerry tries to 
exit, they bump into one another.) Jerry Gosling, you 'ain't 
got a bit of manners. I never see sich a boy. 

Jerry (laughs, then whispers). That's jest what maw 
says. (Exits R.) 

Lowizy (looking from zvindow). Good-bye, good-bye! 
(Sleigh bells heard, they grow fainter and fainter and ■ 
finally die away in distance.) 

Enter Deborah from R. 

Deborah. He was the last, and now I'm all alone, all 
alone! (Comes down R.) 



48 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Lowizy (comes down L.). Cheer up, Aunt Deb, you'll 
be real ca'm and peaceful now that you've got rid of Isabel. 
And look at me, I've been all alone fer twenty years. 

Deborah. All six of my children have gone out of that 
door, Lowizy, and left me. All six of 'em. 

Lowizy (seated L.). Say, Aunt Deb, I want your advice. 

Deborah. What about? 

Lowizy (giggles). About a man. Ain't I a silly little 
thing ? 

Deborah. Is it about Brother Guggs? 

Lowizy. Yes, how did you ever guess it? He's deserted 
me. 

Deborah (seated R.). Deserted you? 

Lowizy. He sent me a bow for Christmas and has gone 
with me off and on fer three years, and now he's took up 
with that little scatter-brain Millie Redfetter. He's goin' 
to take her to the singing school tonight and here I thought 
he was goin' to take me. Oh, me, my heart's e'en a most 
broken in twain. 

Deborah. Why don't you give him a taste of his own 
medicine? 

Lowizy. How do you mean? 

Deborah. You go with someone else. 

Lowizy. I've a good mind to try it. And jest as I was 
thinking of the holy wedlocks of matrimony, too. I've got 
my weddin' laundry all made. 

Deborah (puzzled'). Weddin' laundry? 

Lowizy. Yes, my white lace things and piller-cases and 
sich. High-toned folks call it their weddin' laundry. You 
know Grandad Jiniman Pettifer died last November and 
left me the sole heiress of his estate. 

Deborah. He did? Waal, waal, I hadn't heerd. So 
you've come into a fortune. 

Lowizy. Yes, I'm his heiress. He left eighty-seven dol- 
lars and sixty-three cents after his debts was paid. and I 

Enter Gloriana from L. 

Gloriana. Gone, have they? 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 49 

Deborah. Yes, they've gone. 

Gloriana. Good riddance, says I. Where's Jonah 
Quackenbush ? 

Deborah. He went out to the barn to give his hoss a 
feed of oats. 

Gloriana. Yes, a free feed. I never saw such a stingy 
man. 

Lowizy. I've got an idea ! 

Gloriana. What is it? 

Lowizy. I'm going to git Brother Quackenbush to take 
me to the singing school. That'll make Parson Guggs set 
up and take notice. 

Deborah. Gloriana, have you heerd about Lowizy's good 
fortune? Her grandad Jiniman Pettifer left her all his 
money. How much was it, Lowizy? 

Lowizy (proudly). Eighty-seven dollars and sixty-three 
cents. 

Gloriana. Waal, I do declare. I'm awful glad fer your 
sake, Lowizy. I'll go out and get a. bite to eat. 

Deborah. Set the table in the ell, Gloriana. Brother 
Quackenbush'll be with us. What have y' got? 

Gloriana. Not much. Some fried pork chops, creamed 
potatoes, graham gems, crab apple jelly, pickled beets and 
cold slaw, hot biscuit and honey, tea and buttermilk fer 
them as craves it, two kinds of cookies and some fresh 
marble cake and peach preserves. 

Deborah. That'll be all right. I'll help you. Lowizy, 
you stay here and ask Jonah in to tea. 

Gloriana (going L. with Deborah). Did they get the 
paper signed? 

Deborah. Yes, Gloriana, and Charley got the money. 

Gloriana. I hope and pray you'll be able to meet that 
mortgage when it's due, but I hate mortgages worse'n wild- 
fire. (Exits L. with Deborah.) 

Lowizy. I'll make Brother Quackenbush take me to the 
singin' school, and ef that don't make the parson jealous 
there ain't nothin' will. (Looks in glass, fixes curls, etc.) 
Oh, Lowizy, Lowizy, ain't you the silly little thing? 



50 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Enter Jonah from R. 

Jonah. Where's the folks? 

Lowizy. Lawsy me, Brother Quackenbush, you e'en a 
most startled me to frazzles. (Sits on the sofa.) 

Jonah. I like to froze out in the barn. (Slaps chest to 
keep zvarm.) My, it's cold. 

Lowizy. Why don't y' sit down and git warm. You 
don't look comfortable standing up there like a gander in 
a snowstorm. 

Jonah (comes down and sits on other side of stage from 
her). Where did you say the folks was? 

Lowizy. They're gittin' tea. Come over here, Jonah, 
I've got sump'm to tell you. 

Jonah (seated as before). Well, go ahead and tell it. 

Lowizy. -You don't seem real comfortable. This sofy's 
better'n that chair. 

Jonah. I calc'late I'm all right. What y' want. . 

Lowizy. Aunt Deb told me to ask you to stay to tea. 

Jonah. Is thet all? I calc'lated on staying anyhow. 

Lowizy. And I suppose you're going to the singing 
school tonight. 

Jonah. Calc'lated to. 

Lowizy. Who you goin' to take? 

Jonah. Jonah Quackenbush. 

Lowizy (giggles). Looks like you orter take a young 
lady. It's real meachin' to go by yourself. (Pause, he looks 
at her.) I ain't got any company tonight, Jonah. 

Jonah. Well, you're goin' with the rest of the old folks, 
ain't you? 

Lowizy (rises indignantly). With the old folks? Me? 
I guess not. Jonah Quackenbush, how old do you think 
I be? 

Jonah. Well, lemme see. You and my brother Ezry 
was just .about of an age. That 'ud make you about forty- 
seven. 

Lowizy. Forty-seven ? You must be thinkin' about maw. 
I'm jest about twenty-seven, Jonah Quackenbush. 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 51 

Jonah. All right, Lowizy, have it your own way. I 
don't know how old you be and I don't care. 

Lowizy. I thought maybe you'd offer to escort me to 
the singin' school, Jonah. 

Jonah (rises). Me? Nope, I wasn't calc'latin' to. Qo- 
riana Perkins is more my style. You're a leetle mite too 
old, Sister Custard. 

Lowizy. Old ! There you go agin ! I ain't as old as 
you by a good ten years, and you know it. 

Jonah. Some folks git old quicker'n others. 

Lowizy. Why, you old caterpillar, you're the insultin'est 
man I ever seen ! I wouldn't go with you to singin' school 
if you asked me on your bended knees settin' on a golden 
throne. No, sir! (Cross to L.) You a-talkin' about age! 
Why, you're older'n Methusalem's great-great-grandad. 
You're actually so old that you're in your second childhood. 
(Exits L.) 

(Sleigh bells heard approaching the house.) 

Jerry (outside at rear). Whoa, there, Dobbin! Whoa! 
(Sleigh bells cease.) Jump out, Mr. Rone. 

Jonah (looks out of window). Enoch Rone! I wonder 
what he's comin' here fer? After Gloriana, I calc'late. 

Enter from R. Jerry and Enoch. 

Jerry. Whew, I'll bet a doughnut my nose is clean friz 
off'n my face. (Stamps around, slapping himself across 
chest.) 

Jonah. Kinder cold, ain't it? 

Jerry. Waal, I wouldn't call it no 4th of July picnic, er 
nuthin' like that. 

Enoch. Evening, Brother Quackenbush. 

Jonah (shortly). Evening! (Crosses to L.) I'm going 
out and help Gloriana get the supper. (Cackling laugh and 
exits L.) 

Jerry (removing hat, muffler, mittens, etc.). Say, Mr. 
Rone, you got any nice doo-daddles down at your store fer 
ladies ? 

Enoch. What do you mean, Jerry? 



52 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Jerry. Oh, ribbons and fixin's. I wanter make my gal 
a present and thought maybe I could swop you sump'm. 

Enoch. What you got to swop? 

Jerry. I dunno. I got a book tells how to make love. I 
mi-ght swop y' that. 

Enoch. Do you think I need it? 

Jerry. Dunno, Y' never kin tell. I ain't got no more 
use fer it. I'm a dabster hand at love makin' now. Got 
it all out'n the book. My gal's Huldy Sourapple. Great 
big fat gal. (Gestures.) You orter hear me call her a little 
lily-of-the-valley. Got it all out'n the book. 

Enoch. Bring the book to the store tomorrow and maybe 
I'll swop with you. 

Jerry. I'll do it. 

Enter Gloriana from L. 

Gloriana. Why, Enoch Rone, I didn't know you were 
here. Why didn't you tell a body? Come right in to tea. 
We're eatin' in the ell tonight. 

Jerry. I'm all ready. 

Gloriana. Jerry Gosling, don't you dasst to set down 
to the table 'thout washing your face. It's a sight. 

Jerry. Aw, you jest take all the pleasure outa life fer 
me makin' me wash so much. I washed good this morninr. 
Honest I did. Ears and all. I'm so clean I itch. 

Gloriana. You march right out to the woodshed or you 
don't get a bite. March ! 

Jerry. All right, ef I must, I must. Look at me march. 
(Marches to L.) Hep, hep, hep hep hep! (Marches out L. 
after saluting Enoch.) 

Enoch. I just drove over, Gloriana, to know if you 
didn't want to go to the singing school with me? It's almost 
time. The sleds was all ready to leave the village when 
we started. 

Gloriana. I dunno as I want to go. 

Enoch. You don't. Why, Gloriana, I thought — 

Gloriana. It's on account of Aunty Deb. Charley and 
Isabel went to the city this afternoon. She's all alone for 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 53 

the first time in fifty years. I don't calc'late I'd better go 
out tonight. 

Enoch. That's right. We'll stay here and 'keep her 
company. And I've got something I want to say to you, 
Gloriana. Now's just as good a time as any — 

Gloriana. Oh, I think I smell the potatoes burning. 

Enoch. It's my heart. Gloriana, do you remember the 
first time I saw you. It was in this room three years ago. 

Gloriana. Yes, I remember, Enoch, but Miss Custard 
needs me in the kitchen. (Goes to L.) 

Enoch. I need someone in my kitchen. (Brings her to 
sofa.) Won't you sit down? 

Gloriana. Oh, I'm so nervous. (Sits.) 

Enoch (sits beside her). Three years ago I was a rough 
starving tramp, but that day I took a vow that I'd never 
drink another drop of liquor as long as I live. Gloriana, 
I've kept that vqw. Mrs. Underhill gave me some money 
to go home, but it was too late. My mother was dead. I 
got a job in a grocery store and worked hard, with one idea 
always in my mind. To come back here to Canton and 
show you all that I could make a man of myself. I came 
back and have built up a good business in the village. No 
one knows about my past life except you and Mrs. Under- 
hill. Now I want — 

Gloriana (rises). I know supper's ready. 

Enoch. There's one thing I need, Gloriana. 

Gloriana. We need a light. It's time to light the lamp. 
Have you got a match? (He gives her one, she lights the 
lamp.) 

Enoch. I've been thinking of getting married. 

Gloriana. Got another match? (She lights the candles.) 

Enoch. Won't you let me tell you, Gloriana? (Takes 
her hand.) 

Enter Jerry from L. all dressed up. 

Jerry. Supper's ready. Come on in. We got pork 
chops. 

Gloriana (crosses to L.). Come on, Enoch. Aunty 
Deb don't like to be kept waiting. 



54 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Jerry. Neither do I. I'm so hungry I could eat a cook 
stove, oven and all. Ain't had nothin' to eat since the last, 
time. (Exits L.) 

Enoch. I'll talk to you after supper, Gloriana. (Exits L.) 

Gloriana. Oh, I don't know what to do. He's the finest 

fellow on earth, but I'd hate mightily to leave Aunty Deb. 

Enter Deborah from L. 

. Deborah. Gloriana, they're waiting fer you. 

Gloriana (crosses to door L.). All right. 

Deborah. You'd better take the lamp with you. (Hands 
her the lighted lamp.) I'll wait in here a while. 

Gloriana. Aren't you going to eat any supper? 

Deborah. Don't bother about me. I want to be alone. 
I want to think things over. You go in, Gloriana, and 
leave me alone. Ever since Charley went away I've been 
kind o' dazed. Please go. 

Gloriana. All right, Aunty Deb. (Exits L. with lamp.) 

Deborah (crosses to melodeon, sits on stool). All of 
'em gone. All my children that I'd a given my very heart's 
blood for. All of 'em gone and I'm all alone now. 'All 
alone. If John would only write to me. If he'd only come 
back home. I wonder where he is tonight. God bless and 
comfort him wherever he may be, my boy, my poor wan- 
dering boy. (She plays melodeon and sings softly but dis- 
tinctly.) 

Where Is My Wandering Boy Tonight. 

Where is my wand'ring boy tonight, 

The boy of my tenderest care, 
The boy that once was my joy and light, 
The child of my love and prayer? 
O, where is my boy tonight? 
O, where is my boy tonight? 
My heart overflows, for Llove him he knows; 
O, where is my boy tonight? 

Once he was pure as the morning dew, 
As he knelt at his mother's knee; 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 55 

No face was so bright, no heart more true, 
And none was so sweet as he. 

(Chorus as before.) 
(John appears at window. in the falling snow. Deborah 
oes not see him.) 

Go for my wand'ring boy tonight, 

Go search for him where you will, 
But bring him to me with all his blight, 
And tell him I love him still. 

(Chorus as before.) 
John disappears. Enter Jerry from L., napkin kicked 
in neck and large piece of pie in his Jmnd. 
Jerry. Miss Custard's askin' fer y\ 
Deborah (crosses to L.). All right, Jerry. I'd better 
go in, her being company and an heiress to boot. 

Jerry. An heiress? I should say she is. She's got more 
doo-daddle airs 'n anybuddy else in town. 

Deborah. She's fell into considerable money, Jerry. 
(Exits L.) 

Jerry. I wouldn't care ef she'd fell inter Hookworm 
Crick. She et four pieces of pork chops and I on'y got 
three. Never see sich a pig as thet womern. (Laughs.) 
I beat her on pie, though. I et two pieces at the table and 
hid one under the sink 'fore supper. I'd swop her this yere 
piece fer a pork chop. 

Enter Jonah from L. 
Jonah. Jerry, have you seen anything of the sleighs 
yet? It's time they were here on their way to the singin' 
school. 

Jerry. Nope, I ain't had time to look. (Eats pie.) Say, 
did y' hear about Lowizy Custard? She's a heiress? 
Jonah. A what? 

Jerry. A heiress. She's jest fell into considerable 
money. Aunt Deb told me just now. 

Jonah (rubs his hands together gleefully). She has? 
Well, well, well! (Comes close to Jerry and speaks con- 
fidentially). Did you hear how much? 



56 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Jerry. Oh, 'bout ten er 'leven thousand dollars. Say, 
I'd go sparkin' Miss Lowizy ef I wasn't engaged to Huldy 
Sourapple. You know her, big fat gal ! 

Jonah. So Miss Custard is an heiress, is she? I calc'late 
her grandad left her all that money. He lived in Oswego 
and did right well. 

Enter Lowizy from L. 

Lowizy. Jerry, Gloriana says fer you to come and wipe 
the dishes. 

Jerry. Always gotta make me work when I'm all dressed 
up. 

Lowizy. I calc'late a little work won't hurt. you. 

Jerry (laughs). That's jest what maw says. (Exits L.) 

Jonah. Sister Custard! 

Lowizy. Don't ye speak to me! (Sits L.) 

Jonah. Now, sister, don't hold malice. I got your age 
all mixed up a little while ago. 

Lowizy. I should say you did. 

Jonah. And I'd admire to take you fo the singin' school, 
Lowizy. 

Lowizy. What's come over you all of a sudden? 

Jonah. Nothing at all. I always did like you, Lowizy. 
You and me'd make a right handsome couple, wouldn't we? 

Lowizy. My, my, my ! Air you proposin' to me, Jonah 
Quackenbush ? 

Jonah. I wa'n't, but I will. 

Lowizy. Whenever a man proposes to me he does so 
on his bended knee. 

Jonah (puts old red handkerchief on Ho or, kneels on 
one knee with great difficulty). Lowizy, will y' have me? 

Enter Jerry from L. He stands at rear unobserved, 
watching Lowizy and Jonah with delight. 

Lowizy (giggles). Oh, this is so sudden. 

Jonah. I'd make you a good husband, Lowizy. Good 
and faithful and true. Even as the vine clings to the sturdy 
oak, so would I cling unto thee. 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 57 

Jerry goes to door L. and beckons to Gloriana, who 
enters and stands at rear with Jerry both unobserved by 
the others. 

Lowizy. I'm afraid you're after my money. 

Jonah (creeps on both knees closer to her). No, no, 
Lowizy. It is for yourself alone. (Jerry kneels to Clo- 
riana and imitates Jonah at rear.) Is it your gold or your 
silver or your ox or your worldly goods I crave? Ah, no 
(high pitch), no, Lowizy (low pitch), it is yourself. Now 
what is your answer? 

Lowizy. My answer is no ! 

Jonah (rises, Jerry does the same). Did I understand 
you aright, Sister Custard? 

Lowizy. I calc'late you did, ef your hearin' is good, 
Brother Quackenbush. I wouldn't marry you ef you was 
the only man left in York State and owned the hull village 
of Canton. No, siree ! You're too old. 

Jonah. Then why did you tgg me on to propose to you? 

Lowizy. So as I could tell Widder Bill Pindle that I'd 
been proposed to. at last. 

Jonah. Why, if you tell her it'll be all over the village. 

Lowizy. That's my intentions, Brother Quackenbush. 

Jerry and Gloriana come down to them. 

Gloriana. You'd better get on your things if you're 
going with the party. I think they're coming down the 
big hill. 

Jerry (putting on cap, mittens, etc.). I'm purt' nigh 
ready. 

Enter Deborah with Lowizy's wraps, hood, etc., from L. 

Deborah. Here's your things, Lowizy. 

Enter Enoch from L. 

Enoch. Don't you want to go, Gloriana? 
Gloriana. I won't leave Aunty Deb alone. 
Enoch. Then let's take Aunty Deb with us. (All sur- 
round her.) Come on and go. It'll cheer you up. 



58 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Lowizy. Yes, do come. (All talk at once urging her 
to go.) 

Gloriana. I'll get your hood and things. (Hurries 
out L.) 

(Sleigh bells heard in the distance. Note: These bells 
should be larger than the ones used on the cutter.) 

Jerry (at windozv). They're coming down the hill. 
Hurry up, Gloriana. (Singing he-ard in the distance.) 

Jingle Bells. 

Jingle bells, jingle bells, 

Jingle all the way, 
Oh, what fun it is to ride 

In a one-hoss open sleigh. 

Enter Gloriana from L. with shawl mid hood. 

Deborah. I dunno'z I orter. 

Gloriana. Of course you had. It'll kinder chirk y' up 
a bit. Put 'em on. 

Deborah. There won't be room in the big sleigh. 

Gloriana. Jerry, you hitch up the cutter and go in that. 

Jerry. Can't do it. Huldy Sourappie's waitin' fer me 
in the sleigh. You know Huldy? Big fat gal. 

Enoch. I'll go in the cutter. I'll hitch it up. (Exit R.) 

(Singing heard nearer, aiso bells. All busy getting on 
zvraps, etc.) 

Quintus (outside). Whoa, there! Whoa! Hello, the 
house! Anybody wanter go to the singin' school? 

Jonah. Yes, we all wanter go. (Hurries out R.) 

Deborah. You go in the cutter with Enoch, Gloriana. 

Jerry (in a sing-song tone). Oh, Gloriana's got a feller, 
Gloriana's got a feller. 

Gloriana. I won't do it. I'll go with you, Aunty Deb. 
I calc'late Enoch Rone kin ride by himself. (Blows out 
lights, except one candle.) 

Quintus (outside). Hurry up! It's freezin' cold 
standin' still. 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 59 

Lowizy. We're coming. (Exits R. followed by Deborah 
and Gloriana.) 

Jerry (as he exits R.). Save me a place right 'side of 
Huldy Sourapple. You know her! Big'fat gal! (Exit R.) 

(Song outside. Chorus of "Jingle Bells/') 

QuiNTUs (after chorus). All ready! Gid ap ! (Bells 
heard and chorus is repeated, bells and singing dying azvay 
in distance. Pause.) 

The door at R. is slowly opened and John enters stealth- 
ily. He sinks on the stool in front of the melodeon, the 
light of the candle on the melodeon shining on him. He is 
dressed as a tramp and carries an old bundle on a stick, 
the bundle tied in an old red handkerchief. 

John. Back again after three years. Back home. There 
don't seem t© be anyone about. That's good. They mustn't 
know that I've been here. I'll get something to eat and 
see if I can find a little money. It'll be a gift from Heaven 
to me, alone, starving, without a home, without a friend. 
Maybe there'll be enough money in the old blue vase for 
me to get a start. If I could go out west where they didn't 
know I was a jail-bird maybe I could make an honest living. 
The old blue vase. (Takes candle, crosses to mantel.) 
Here it is. (Puts candle on mantel and takes vase.) Some 
bills. (Examines them.) Three fives and two ones. Not 
very much, but it'll have to do. (Counting bills in front 
of mantel.) 

Enter Enoch from R. with lighted lantern. 

John. I've got it. 

Enoch (drops lantern and collars John). And I've 
got you! 

John. Who are you, scoundrel? 

Enoch. Who are you, thief? (Drags him into lighl of 
lantern.) John Underhill ! The youngest son, a thief! Oh, 
boy, this will break your mother's heart. 

John. Who are you? 



60 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Enoch. I'm the tramp you helped the day you was 
arrested. I came back and made good, but you — you are 
worse'n ever ; you're a thief !. 

John. Thief? It's a lie! 

Enoch (snatches the bills from him). It's the truth. 
Here's the proof. 

' John. What right have you got to meddle in my busi- 
ness? This is my house, this is my money. 

Enoch. You shan't rob that poor old woman. Do you 
know that today she made her supreme sacrifice. She mort- 
gaged her home, her home where she has lived for years 
and years, for her son Charley. And now you turn out 
a thief. 

John. That word again? 

Enoch. Yes, again and again. You'd steal into her 
house and rob her of her scanty savings. You'd send her 
to the poor-house, would you? Make her end her days as 
an object of charity. Your mother, who suffered for you, 
who would have died for you. 

John. Don't tell her. Don't let her know. I'm a fail- 
ure. I can't get work and I am starving. (Kneels.) But 
don't let her know, don't let mother know. (Sinks on Ho or, 
burying face in hands.) Oh, why can't I die? Why can't 
I die? I'm all alone. I haven't got a friend in all the world. 

Enoch. Yes, you have, John. I'm your friend. I've 
never yet gone back on a man when he's in distress, and 
I'm not going to do it now. Three years ago you helped 
me when I was in the depths of despair. Look up, John, 
I'll stand by you, I'll help you, boy, I'll help you. 

John (rises). You will? Then show me how to help 
myself. Show me how you made a man of yourself and 
help me to do the same. 

Enoch. I've got a mine down in northern Oklahoma, 
a zinc mine, and it's paying big money. I'll pay your way 
down there and give you enough to get a small share in 
another mine. Take that wallet. (Takes zvallet from 
pocket and gives it to John.) It's got my card in it. Show 
it to Ollie Dawson, down at Miami, Oklahoma, and he'll 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 61 

help you make good. He's my foreman. There's enough 
money to pull you through. 

John. Oh, I can't do it. I can't take this from a stran- 
ger. I'm not a beggar. 

Enoch. No, boy, but you can take it from a friend. 
This is the interest on the money your mother gave me 
three years ago. Take it and make a man of yourself. I'm 
your friend. (Extends hand.) 

John (wrings his hand). God bless you! (Takes wal- 
let.) I'm going to work hard and pay you back. 

Enoch. You'll pay me back by snowing me that you're 
all right. Don't drink, do you? 

John. Not a drop. The day you left here three years 
ago I took a vow never to take another drop of liquor as 
long as I live. And I've kept that vow. 

Enoch. Shake again. All you need is a start. You'll 
be a man yet. I'll drive you over to the village and you 
can start for Oklahoma on the night train. 

John. For Oklahoma and a new life! I've been weak 
and foolish, a thing of scorn, laughed at, mocked at, an 
ex-convict with the shadow of the prison ever before me, 
but all that is passed. From this moment, with the help 
of God, I am going to be a man ! 

(They stand at the door shaking hands heartily as the 
curtain falls.) 

Curtain. 

Second Picture : Empty stage. 

Enoch (heard off stage at rear). Gid ap, Dobbin! 
(Sleigh bells heard growing fainter and fainter as the cur- 
tain falls.) 

Curtain. 



62 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 



Act III. 

THE PRODIGAL SON. 

Scene: The same as before, only an autumn afternoon 
over two years later than Act II. Plaintive music at the 
rise of the curtain. Deborah discovered on knees at fire- 
place scrubbing, a bucket, brush and soap near her. She 
is much more feeble and older than in the other acts. Her 
shoulders are more bent, her hands 'more trembling. She 
should look and act every day of seventy. Music ceases 
when she speaks. 

Deborah {after a pronounced pause looks up). Over 
the hills to the poor-house. Over the hills to the poor- 
house. It jest keeps runnin' through my head -like a song. 
Me, the daughter of Parson Nathan Tucker, the widow 
of Deacon John Underhill, endin' up my days in the poor- 
house. Oh, the disgrace, the disgrace! {Weeps.) I jest 
can't seem to bear it, and I've borne so much. How long, 
O Lord, how long ! 'Pears like my cup of bitterness is more 
than I can bear. (Scrubs.) Good-bye, old hearthstone! 
(Looks around.) The little home I've loved so well, where 
John brought me as a bride, where all my children were 
born and where I've been so happy, so happy! I've got to 
leave it all and end my days in the poor-house. (Rises fee- 
bly, wrings out cloth.) A pauper ! The wife of John Under- 
hill a pauper! After all these years. (Fiercely.) It ain't 
right, it ain't fair ! I ain't blind or lame or lazy, but they 
won't give me a chance, there won't no one give me a 
chance. (Takes out bucket, brush, etc., at L. and returns 
immediately, walking feebly, almost tottering.) And I got 
to leave it all, the farm and the little home where I've 
been so happy, where I've lived since I was a bride. (Sits 
at L.) I remember the summer evening John brought me 
here, the smell of the grass that was down, and the little 
bird a-stirring in the nest in the yellow rose-bush by the 
winder, sort of complainin' on us fer coming in. We sat 
out on the stoop hand in hand, John, and me! The wind 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 63 

came blowin' out of the dusk, full of sweetness, and blowed 
away into nowhere, makin' us feel that we was in the land 
of pure delight in the hymn, and life was all bright and 
tender like the dew on the sweet briars growin' beside the 
rock in the pasture. And now it's all over and I'm a pauper 
goin' over the hills to the poor-house. (Weeps softly.) 
Over the hills — -to — the — poor-house. (Weeps.) 
(Knock on door R.) 

Deborah. They've come for me! (Cries.) I can't do 
it ! I can't bear the disgrace, the shame ! Why can't I die, 
why can't I die? (Bows head on arms and weeps bitterly.) 
Enter Gloriana from R. carrying baby. 

Gloriana (crosses quickly to Deborah as soon as she 
sees her, and kneels beside her.) Aunty Deb, Aunty Deb! 

Deborah (looks up in a dazed manner). Who is it? 
Have you come for me? 

Gloriana. It's me. Gloriana Perkins. It's Gloriana, 
Aunty Deb! 

Deborah. Gloriana? (Looks at her.) Yes, honey, I 
know ye now. It's Gloriana and the baby. 

Gloriana. Oh, Aunty Deb, my heart is breaking to see " 
you like this. If you'd only let me help you. 

Deborah. There ain't no help fer me now, Gloriana. 
Ef my own children for whom I'd a give my life's blood 
won't do nothin' for me, I'd better go over the hills. The 
old house has been sold and Quintus Todd's comin' fer me 
this afternoon. 

Gloriana. Maybe Thomas'll help you yet. 

Deborah. My oldest child, Gloriana, and one of the 
richest men in Canton, but he won't turn his hand to keep 
me out'n the poor-house. You can't blame Susan ; she ain't 
got so much and they've a big family, but Thomas and 
Charley are jest naturally against me. 

Gloriana. Why don't you write to Isaac out west. 

Deborah. I did write to him, Gloriana, I did. . Isaac 
kin quote Scripture from beginnin' to end, but one verse 
in the Bible he don't seem to be able to remember, Honor 
thy father and thy mother! My son Isaac writ back to 



64 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

me and said I couldn't stand the climate out where he is, 
said it 'ud be too warm fer me, and my daughter Rebecca, 
who lives twenty miles from him, she writ back and said 
it 'ud be too cold. So there ain't nothin' left fer me, 
nothin' but the poor-house. But I won't complain, I won't 
blame 'em, they jest don't understand, that's all. . We're 
in the hands of the Father, honey, and He doeth all things 
wisely. Maybe we can't see it now, but by and by we 
will, even if we has to wait till we reach the shining shore. 
Lemme see the baby, Gloriana. 

Gloriana (puts baby in her arms). Go to Aunty Deb, 
darlin'. 

Deborah. Look at him smile. He looks like my baby J 
John used to look when I'd sit and hold him and sing. 
(Croons.) Sweet and low, sweet and low, wind of the 
western sea, blow, blow, breezes blow, wind of the western 
sea. (Speaks.) See him smile, Gloriana. Jest like little 
John used to do. The smile of a little child is as sweet 
to me as a bunch of lilies with the dew sparklin' on 'em. 
No one can blame the Master yonder fer makin' little chil- 
. dren the kingdom of Heaven. (Hums "Sweet and Low" 
and rocks baby.) 

(Knock at door R.) 

Gloriana (rises). I'll see who it is, Aunty Deb. (Opens 
door.) 

Enter Jerry from R. with two parcels. 

Jerry. Aunt Deb to hum? 

Gloriana. Yes, come in, Jerry. 

Deborah. Jerry, I'm glad to see you. Come in and sit 
down. 

Jerry (down C, Deborah down R.). Aunt Deb, I hear 
you're goin' away. 

Deborah. I am, son. They're takin' me to the poor- 
house. 

Jerry. It's a burnin' downright shame, so it is. But I 
wanted to see you afore you go. Got a little present here 
for you. Swopped four barrels Northern Spies fer it. 



AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 65 

(Opens paper and shows black shawl.) Little old shawl 
to kinder keep you warm up there. 

Gloriana. Oh, Jerry, it's beautiful. (Jerry puts shazvl 
around Deborah.) 

Deborah. Fer me? Oh, Jerry! God bless you, boy, 
God bless you. To think you'd remember a old womern 
like me. 

Jerry. You was allers good to me, Aunt Deb, more'n 
anybuddy else in the hull world, 'cept maw. (Sadly.) And 
maw's gone to her reward. 

Deborah. Ef she could see you now, Jerry, she'd be 
so proud of ye. She'd say, God bless my boy ! 

Jerry. Yes, that's jest what maw'd say. Got another 
present, too. (Takes paper from neat black bonnet.) 
Swopped three hens and a rooster fer this yere bunnet. 
I wanted you to look nice when y' git up there. 

Deborah (weeps). Oh, Jerry, I can't thank you! I 
dunno what to say. 

Jerry. Go in and put on- the bunnet. I wanter see how 
it looks. 

Gloriana (takes baby). Yes, Aunty Deb, put it on. 

Deborah. It's purt' nigh time fer me to go. I've got 
the house all nice and clean fer the new people and I'll git 
ready now fer the sheriff. (Exits L.) 

Gloriana. Ain't it sad, Jerry? 

Jerry. It's a shame ! Thomas and Charley Underhill 
orter be tarred an' feathered, they ought. Them, with 
money and then lettin' their poor old mother end out her 
days in the poor-house. 

Gloriana. Enoch and I offered her a home, but she said 
she wouldn't accept charity. 

Jerry. Who bought the place? 

Gloriana. Brother Quackenbush, I calc'late. Enoch 
didn't go to the sale. Lowizy Guggs was there, but she 
didn't say who'd bought- the place. 

Jerry. She puts on more airs 'n ever sence she married 
the parson. (Crosses to her.) I ain't never seen that there 
baby of your'n. 



66 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

Gloriana. You ain't. Why you poor soul. Come right 
here and look at him. Ain't he a beauty? (Puts back 
baby's hood showing its face.) 

Jerry. He's doin' right smart sleepin', ain't he? How 
old is he? 

Gloriana (proudly). Six months and a half. 

Jerry. Pshaw, now you surprise me. 

Gloriana. Yes, indeed. 

Jerry. Pshaw, now he don't look more'n six and a half 
minutes. 

Gloriana. Jeremiah Gosling, you hush up. You're a 
reg'lar heathen. 

Jerry. What is he? A boy or a gal? 

Gloriana. Why, a boy, of course. 

Jerry. Pshaw now, you surprise me. Say, Mis' Rone. 

Gloriana. Yes ? 

Jerry (pulls apple out of pocket). How'll you swop? 

Gloriana. You go 'way, Jerry Gosling! 

Jerry (pulls .out big silver, watch). I'll throw in this 
yere doo-daddle. 

Gloriana. I never see sech a boy. 

Enter Deborah from from L. wearing shawl and bonnet. 

Deborah. The sheriff said he'd be here 'long 'bout four 
o'clock. What time is it? 

Jerry (looks at watch). Lacks four minutes o' four., 
(Down R.) 

Deborah (down L.). I'm all ready. My heart is break- 
ing, but I'm goin' with a smile on my face. It's the will of 
• the Lord. 

Enter from R. Enoch and Quintus. 

Enoch. Afternoon, Mis' Underhill. 

Deborah. Afternoon. (They come down to her and 
shake hands azvkzvardly.) 

Quintus. Look like you're ready fer a journey. 

Deborah. For my last journey, Quintus. I'll never 
come back from over the hills. I'll never come back from 
the poor-house. (Takes bundle tied in cloth from table at 






AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 67 

L.) I'm all ready, Quintus. (Trembling.) I'm all ready 
and willing. (Quintus up R.) 

Enoch (at C). Jest a minute, Mis' Underhill. (Debo- 
rah pauses down L.) I want to tell you 'bout a friend of 
mine. 

Deborah (puzzled). A friend of your'n? What friend? 

Enoch. Oh, about a boy I know. 

Deborah. A boy? (Goes to him, puts her trembling 
hand on his arm.) You ain't heerd from my John, hev 
you? No, no, don't start me to hoping, Enoch, my boy's 
dead! My boy's dead! 

Enoch. Your boy ain't dead! He's come back to you. 
Rich and respected. He's here. 

Enter John from R. He takes C, Enoch going down R. 

John (holds out his arms to Deborah). Mother! 

Deborah (pauses, looks at him tremblingly, afraid to 
speak, then totters toward him and flings both arms around 
his neck, with a glad cry.) John! John! 

Enoch. He's just come home from Oklahoma. 

Gloriana. Is it really John? 

Enoch. Of course it is. And he's the one who bought 
the old home at the auction. 

Jerry. Then she don't hev to go to the poor-house. 
Glory hallelujah ! Three cheers f er the 4th of July ! Hurray ! 

Deborah. John, is it really you, after all these years? 

John. Yes, mother, the prodigal son has returned. 

Deborah. And I won't have to be a pauper, I won't 
have to go over the hills to the poor-house. 

John. Never. I bought the house. It's ours, mother, 
just for you and me. From now and henceforth you're 
adopted! Adopted by your resurrected son. 

Enter all characters and they stand at rear. 

Enoch. It's a surprise party, Aunt Deb. They all saw 
John at the station and followed him home. 

Deborah (down L. with John). Oh, I'm so happy! 
My boy's come back again. I've got my baby home again. 



68 AN OLD FASHIONED MOTHER 

I feel as though I'd orter go right down on my knees and 
sing the Doxology. 

Widder. We'll all sing it. (All sing.) 

Doxology. 

Praise God from whom all blessings flow, 
Praise Him, all creatures here below, . 
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host, 
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost ! 

John. And I hope my simple story will be a lesson to 
all of you. And this is the moral I would have it teach — 

Enoch. Look not upon the wine when it is red. 

Deborah. What thy right hand haveth to do, do it 
cheerfully in the fear of the Lord. 

John. And honor thy father and thy mother that thy 
days may be long in the land. I haven't always been a 
good boy, I was weak, and when tempted I fell — 
"But I'll bet when the great bugle rings out its cheerful 

notes, 
And the good Lord Almighty sorts out his sheep and goats, 
However my case is settled, if you are there you'll see 
That my good old Christian mother will stand right up 
for me!" 

Slow Curtain. 



The Press-Agent's Handbook 

By FREDERICK G. JOHNSON. 

Price, 25 Cents 

How to advertise a play. Designed primarily for the use of 
dramatic clubs and other groups of amateur entertainers. The in- 
formation is clearly and concisely presented. Fine-spun, untried 
theories have been studiously avoided. The material is largely 
the direct result of experience gained by a practical advertising 
man in promoting the publicity for many amateur entertainments, 
and his financial success has been the best testimonial for the 
value of the advice given in this book. 

CONTENTS. 
Chapter I. — The Need of a Press-Agent. 

The Press-Agent Is Responsible— Duty of the Press-Agent — 
"Wasting Ammunition — "Learning the Ropes" in Advance. 
Chapter II. — Selecting the Press- Agent. 

Experience not Essential — Newspaper Training of "Value — 
Genera] Requirements. 
Chapter III. — Advertising Mediums. 

Handbills — Window Cards — Posters and Billboards — News- 
paper Advertising — Hand -made Posters — Personal Work. 
Chapter IV. — i he Newspaper Campaign. 

Make Friends — Business First — How Much Appropriation? — 
A Small Town Advantage — Use All Newspapers — Live up to 
the Agreement — Getting Acquainted — Exclusive Notices— De- 
velop Gradually — The Final Week — Depends on Circumstances- 
Country Weeklies — Expressing Appreciation. 
Chapter V. — Preparing News Copy. 

Readers Must Contain News — Preparation Important — Ex- 
change of Service — Novelty the Keynote — "New" and "Exclu- 
sive" — Don't Be Offended — Preparing News Copy — Each Notice 
Complete — Carbon Copies — Length of Notices — Best Kind of 
Material — Human Interest Most Important. 
Chapter VI.- — Preparing Advertising Copy. 

Simplicity the Keynote — Good Taste a Requisite — Saving 
Space — "Using a Model — Size of Type — Newspaper Instructions — 
Teaser Campaign — Hints on Posters. 
Chapter VII. — The Outdoor Campaign. 

For the Small Town — Teasers — Follow Up — Posters — Hand- 
bills — Personal Work. 
Chapter VIM. — Novel Advertising Stunts. 

Hand-made Window Cards — The Float — Scenic Float — The 
Parade — Street Car Hangers. 
Chapter IX. — Ticket Schemes. 

Various Methods — On Sale at Stores — Solicitation by Mail — 
Why It Is Not Advised — Personal Disposal — Selling by Districts 
— Sale by the Players — Insist on Cash Sales — When Prices Are 
Scaled — Reserved Seats — Advance Sale — Sale by Contest — Com- 
plimentary Tickets — Passes for Newspapers — When to Give 
Passes — Copy for Tickets. 
Chapter X. — Programs. 

A Regular Formula — A Model Program — Musical Plays — 
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Chapter XI. — Specimen Press Notices. 

Brief Opening Notice — More Elaborate Opening Notice — 
First Follow-Up — Second Follow-Up — Third Follow-Up — 
Fourth Follow-Up — Fifth Follow-Up — Very Short Reader — To 
Be Used Just Before Date of Performance — Humorous Advance 
Notice. 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO 



The Press- Agent's Handbook 

By FREDERICK G. JOHNSON. 

Price, 25 Cents 

How to advertise a play. Designed primarily for the use of 
dramatic clubs and other groups of amateur entertainers. The in- 
formation is clearly and concisely presented. Fine-spun, untried 
theories have been studiously avoided. The material is largely 
the direct result of experience gained by a practical advertising 
man in promoting the publicity for many amateur entertainments, 
and his financial success has been the best testimonial for the 
value of the advice given in this book. 

CONTENTS. 
Chapter I. — The Need of a Press-Agent. 

The Press-Agent Is Responsible — Duty of the Press-Agent— 
Wasting Ammunition — "Learning the Ropes" in Advance. 
Chapter II. — Selecting the Press-Agent. 

Experience not Essential — Newspaper Training of Value — 
General Requirements. 
Chapter III. — Advertising Mediums. 

Handbills — Window Cards — Posters and Billboards — News- 
paper Advertising — Hand-made Posters — Personal Work. 
Chapter IV. — The Newspaper Campaign. 

Make Friends — Business First — How Much Appropriation? — 
A Small Town Advantage — Use All Newspapers — Live up to 
the Agreement — Getting Acquainted — Exclusive Notices — De- 
velop Gradually — The Final Week — Depends on Circumstances- 
Country Weeklies — Expressing Appreciation. 
Chapter V. — Preparing News Copy. 

Readers Must Contain News — Preparation Important — Ex- 
change of Service — Novelty the Keynote — "New" and "Exclu- 
sive" — Don't Be Offended — Preparing News Copy — Each Notice 
Complete — Carbon Copies — Length of Notices — Best Kind of 
Material — Human Interest Most Important. 
Chapter VI. — Preparing Advertising Copy. 

Simplicity the Keynote — Good Taste a Requisite — Saving 
Space — Using a Model — Size of Type — Newspaper Instructions — 
Teaser Campaign — Hints on Posters. 
Chapter VII, — The Outdoor Campaign. 

For the Small Town — Teasers — Follow Up — Posters — Hand- 
bills — Personal Work. 
Chapter VIII. — Novel Advertising Stunts. 

Hand-made Window Cards — The Float — Scenic Float — The 
Parade — Street Car Hangers. 
Chapter IX. — Ticket Schemes. 

Various Methods — On Sale at Stores — Solicitation by Mail — 
Why It Is Not Advised — Personal Disposal — Selling by Districts 
- — Sale by the Players — Insist on Cash Sales — When Prices Are 
Scaled — Reserved Seats — Advance Sale — Sale by Contest — Com- 
plimentary Tickets — Passes for Newspapers — When to Give 
Passes — Copy for Tickets. 
Chapter X. — Programs. 

A Regular Formula — A Model Program — Musical Plays- 
Clearness and Accuracy — Printing Programs — How Many to 
Print — Program Advertising. 
Chapter XI. — Specimen Press Notices. 

Brief Opening Notice — More Elaborate Opening Notice- 
First Follow-Up — Second Follow-Uo — Third Follow-Up — 
Fourth Follow-Up— Fifth Follow-Up— Very Short Reader— To 
Be Used Just Before Date of Performance — Humorous Advance 
Notice. 

f. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO 



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Choice collections, pathetic, hu- 
morous, descriptive, prose, 
poetry. 15 Nos., per No. 25c 

DRILLS 

The Best Drill Book. 

Very popular drills and marches. 
The Favorite Book of Drills. 

Drills that sparkle with originality. 
Little Plays With Drills. 

For children from 6 to 11 years. 
The Surprise Drill Book. 

Fresh, novel, drills and marches. 

SPECIALTIES 

The Boys' Entertainer. 

Monologues, dialogues, drills. 
Children's Party Book. 

Invitations, decorations, games. 
The Days We Celebrate. 

Entertainments for all the holidays. 
Good Things for Christmas. 

Recitations, dialogues, drills. 
Good Things for Sunday Schools. 

Dialogues, exercises, recitations. 
Good Things for Thanksgiving. 

A gem of a book. 
Good Things for Washington 

and Lincoln Birthdays. 
Little Folks' Budget. 

Easy pieces to speak, songs. 
One Hundred Entertainments. 

New parlor diversions, . socials. 
Patriotic Celebrations. 

Great variety of material. 
Pictured Readings and Tableaux. 

Entirely original features. 
Pranks and Pastimes. 

Parlor games for children. 
Private Theatricals. 

How to put on plays. 
Shadow Pictures, Pantomimes, 

Charades, and how to prepare. 
Tableaux and Scenic Readings. 

New and novel; for all ages. 
Twinkling Fingers and Sway- 
ing Figures. For little tots. 
Yuletide Entertainments. 

A choice Christmas collection. 

MINSTRELS, JOKES 

Black American Joker. 

Minstrels' and end men's gags. 
A Bundle of Burnt Cork Comedy. 

Monologues, stump speeches, etc. 
Laughland,via the Ha-Ha Route. 

A merry trip for fun tourists. 
Negro Minstrels. 

All about the business. 
The New Jolly Jester. 

Fumry stories, jok es, gags, etc. 

Large Illustrated Catalogue Free 



T.S.DENISON& COMPANY, Publishers, 1 54 W. Randolph St., Chicago 



DENISON'S ACTINC 

Price 15 Cents Each, Postpaid, Unless Different 



i IRRARY OF CONGRESS 

nnmiiiHi 

015 907 657 A 



Winning Widow, 2 acts, V/ 2 hrs. 

(25c) ... 2 4 

Women Who Did, 1 hr. . . (25c) 17 

Yankee Detective, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 8 3 

FARCES, COMEDIETAS, Etc. 

All on a Summer's Day, 40 min. 4 6 

April Fools, 30 min 3 

Assessor, The, 10 min 3 2 

Baby Show at Pineville, 20 min. 19 

Billy's Chorus Girl, 25 min... 2 3 

Billy's Mishap, 20 min 2 3 

Borrowed Luncheon, 20 min.. 5 

Borrowing Trouble, 20 min 3 5 

Case Against Casey, 40 min... 23 

Country Justice, 15 min 8 

Cow that Kicked Chicago, 20 m. 3 2 

Divided Attentions, 35 min 1 4 

Dude in a Cyclone, 20 min.... 4 2 

Family Strike, 20 min....'... 3 3 

Ffest-Class Hotel, 20 min 4 

For Love and Honor, 20 min.. 2 1 

Fudge and a Burglar, 15 min.. 5 

Fun in Photo Gallery, '30 min.. 6 10 
Great Medical Dispensary, 30 m. 6 
Great Pumpkin Case, 30 min.. 12 

Hans Von Smash, 30 min 4 3 

I'm Not Mesilf at All, 25 min. 3 2 
Initiating a Granger, 25 min.. 8 

Irish Linen Peddler, 40 min... 3 3 

Is the Editor In? 20 min... 4 2 

Kansas Immigrants, 20 min... 5 1 

Men Not Wanted, 30 min 8 

Mike Donovan's Courtship. 15 m. 1 3 

Mother Goose's Goslings, 30 m. 7 9 

Mrs. Jenkins' Brilliant Idea, 35m. 8 
Mrs. Stubbins' Book Agent, 30 m. 3-2 

My Wife's Relations, 1 hr 4 6 

Not a Man in the House, 40 m. -5 

Pair of Lunatics, 20 min 1 1 

Patsy O'Wang, 35 min 4 3 

Pat, the Apothecary,' 35 min.. 6 2 

Persecuted Dutchman, 30 min. 6 3 

Regular Fix, 35 min 6 4 

Second Childhood, 15 min.... 2 2 

Shadows, 35 min . . . ., 2 2 

Sing a Song of Seniors, 30 min. 7 

Taking Father's Place, 30 min. 5 3 

Taming a Tiger, 30 min 3 

That Rascal Pat, 30 min 3 2 

Those Red Envelopes, 25 min. 4 4 
Too Much of a Good Thing, 45 

min 3 6 

Turn Him Out, 35 min 3 2 

Two Aunts and a Photo, 20 m. 4 
Two Gentlemen in a Fix, 15 m. 2 

Two Ghosts in White, 20 min. . 8 

Two of a Kind, 40 min 2 3 

Uncle Dick's Mistake, 20 min. . 3 2 

Wanted a Correspondent, 45 m. 4 4 

Wanted a Hero, 20 min 1 1 



M. F. 

Wide' Enough for Two, 45 min. 5 2 

Wrorig Babv, 25 min... 8 

Yankee Peddler, 1 hr 7 3 

VAUDEVILLE SKETCHES, MON- 
OLOGUES, ETHIOPIAN PLAYS. 

Ax'in' Her Father, 25 min 2 3 

Booster Club of Blackville, 25 m.10 

Breakfast Food for Two, 20 m. 1 1 

Cold Finish, 15 min 2 1 

Colored Honeymoon, 25 min... 2 2 

Coon Creek Courtship, 15 min. 1 1 

Coming Champion, 20 min.... 2 
Coontown Thirteen Club, 25 m.14 

Counterfeit Bills, 20 min 1 1 

Darktown Fire Brigade, 25 min. 10 

Doings of a Dude, 20 min 2 1 

Dutch Cocktail, 20 min 2 

For Reform, 20 min 4 

Fresh Timothy Hay, 20 min.. 2 1 

Glickman, the Glazier, 25 min. 1 1 

Good Mornin' Judge, 35 min. . 9 2 

Her Hero, 20 min 1 1 

Hey, Rube! 15 min 1 

Home Run, 15 min 1 ] 

Jumbo Jum, 30 min 4 3 

Little Red School House, 20 m. 4 

Love and Lather, 35 min 3 2 

Marriage and After, 10 min.. 1 

Memphis Mose, 25 min 5 1 

Mischievous Nigger, 25 min ..42 

Mistaken Miss, 20 min 1 1 

Mr. and Mrs. Fido, 20 min 1 1 

Oh, Doctor! 30 min.. 6 2 

One Sweetheart for Two, 20 m. 2 

Oshkosh Next Week, 20 min . . 4 

Oyster Stew, 10 min 2 

Pete Yansen's Gurl's Moder, 10m. 1 

Pickles for Two, 15 min 2 

Pooh Bah of Peacetown, 35 min. 2 2 

Prof. Black's Funnygraph, 15 m. 6 

Sham Doctor, 10 min.. 4 2 

Si and I, 15 min .. . 1 

Special Sale, 15 min 2 

Stage Struck Darky, 10 min.. 2 1 

Sunny Son of Italy, 15 min.. 1 

Time Table, 20 min 11 

Tramp and the Actress, 20 min. 1 1 

Troubled by Ghosts, 10 min... 4 

Troubles of Rozinski, 15 min.. 1 

Two Jay Detectives, 15 min.. 3 

Umbrella Mender, 15 min.... 2 

Uncle Jeff, 25 min 5 2 

What Happened to Hannah, 15m. 1 1 



A great number of 

Standard and Amateur Plays 

not found here are listed in 

Denlson's Catalogue 



T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers ,1 54 W. Randolph St. , Chicago 



